Lightning Strike
by Michelle Knight 1188
Summary: Here is my take of what might happen next to Cal, Niko, and Robin after the events of "Nevermore." This picks up where the last book ended, so if you haven't read the book yet there are major spoilers here. This story will be filled with action, explosions, sarcasm, and loads of brotherly angst. Also, there will be frequent profanity because of Cal. He just can't behave.
1. Pool Party

**Hey guys. This story takes over where _Nevermore_ left us hanging with that massive cliffhanger. I have no idea what's going to take place in the next book, but since we won't be getting any more Cal, Niko, and Robin until winter, I figured I might as well fill the void and have a little fun with my own version of what could happen. I hope you enjoy, and please leave me some feedback. **

I felt my heart start before anything else registered in my mind. One beat, two beats, three. Then I remembered where I was, and my grey eyes fluttered open against the hazy water. Waves of heaviness pulled me downward, tugging at me even as a second grip fought to yank me back to the surface. Back to air.

Air. You never really appreciate it until you're being strangled by a lightning flinging, newly resurrected god and drowning underneath twenty feet of fish refuse. It's a crying shame.

Robin's grip on my arm was slipping, tightening, and slipping again as he fought to drag my waterlogged ass to the surface. Slipping because he was drowning, tightening because he was a stubborn bastard and he wasn't about to throw in the towel and leave me behind, like any sensible person would have done.

I couldn't see Niko or Cal, but they had to be close. They'd better be, because the situation had officially reached the level of screwed that required drastic measures, ergo if I had to fuck up mini-me's sanity to save all our lives, I would.

I ripped a hole open around us. Hoped that we were close together, that Niko hadn't managed to ninja breast stroke his way to the surface already. There was no way I had the energy to make a second trip.

We plummeted into Goodfellow's apartment accompanied by hundreds of gallons of water that sloshed across the floor and up over the furniture, scattering the expensive pottery and artifacts and liquor bottles into the corners and against the walls. His grip on my arm intensified as he choked and hacked air back into his lungs. I could feel his fingernails digging into my wrist until they drew blood. Good. He was alive. Probably going to kill me later, but alive now.

A fish flopped and splashed by my elbow as I coughed up my share of fluids. My arms refused to cooperate as I tried to push myself up, hindered further when I sliced my palm against a shard of glass hidden under the foot of water that was finally beginning to settle around us. Probably from some ancient and irreplaceably rare bottle of wine. I almost felt bad about that. Almost.

Finally on my knees I scanned the room for my brother and murder face kid, and movement behind the couch caught my eye. Good. Either it was them or I had inadvertently gated a small shark into the apartment, which wouldn't even surprise me at this stage in the game. From the sound of the retching, it had to be Niko. I staggered to my feet, pulling Robin up and along for the ride. His string of expletives magnified the bitch of a headache that was throbbing above my eye. At least he hadn't stabbed me yet, though from the state of his apartment he was probably well on his way to doing just that.

That was his problem. I had mine. I had _plenty_ of mine. But as I waded through the water to the other side of the couch I was greeted with the biggest baddest problem at present. Cal was blue, eyes half lidded, not breathing.

Fuck.

Niko was puking his kelp tea guts out, either from nearly drowning or experiencing the joy that is gating for the first time. He had a hand fisted in Cal's shirt, frantically pounding against his chest to get him to breathe. I was all for his enthusiasm, but Niko was in no state to be doing anything right now and if Cal passed the point of deader than dead and stayed dead...well, I wouldn't really be around to care. It was beyond a miracle I was still here at all.

I shoved Niko to the side with barely any effort. That in itself was worrying, but he was alive and I'd worry about him once I was sure I had a later to worry in. I began compressions on Cal, pressing hard and fast. Broken ribs were a certainty, but he would deal with that. He owed me anyway for being a piss poor version of myself the previous night. I breathed into him and continued the compressions.

"Wake. The. Fuck. Up. You. Bastard," I grated out, and breathed for him again. Niko stumbled back to my side and gripped Cal's hand tightly, as though his iron clad will alone could bring him back. Hell, maybe it was enough, because Cal chose that moment to open his eyes wide and spew out half the Atlantic Ocean. Satisfied, I released him and slumped back in the water against the couch, allowing Niko to take over.

"It's okay," Niko ground out, trying his best not to gag. His usually tan face was still tinged green. His hands shook minutely as he gently turned Cal over, holding him slightly out of the water and keeping a hand on his back as water continued to pour out his mouth. "It's okay, little brother. You're okay."

Robin was less silent. "He's _okay_?" he said, voice rising, "We're _okay_?" he stood up, fingers trying to wring some water out of his sleeve. "We're _okay?"_ he said again, flinging his arms wide.

Champion of mental breakdowns that I was, I could recognize one when it was ready to erupt. "We're all alive, Robin," I said, "Four for four. That's good enough for me."

"Yes, well, we all can't be blessed with your sunny optimism, Caliban, and would you please be so kind as to remove that glacier of glass from your hand before you manage to sever something vital and bleed over my already decimated apartment?"

I glanced at my hand. The shard was still there, embedded deep. I flexed my fingers once, paused, and then pulled. It came free with a sucking sound, and released a small stream of blood. I tossed the glass back into the water. "There. Happy?" I glanced at Cal, pleased to see the little bastard was doing fine. Breathing fine, moving fine, not going Auphe and trying to flay the three of us with his teeth fine.

"No, that is not _gamou_ better," Goodfellow snapped, grabbing my wrist and pressing the wound against my jeans. Sanitary. "Hades himself will furthermore be a more welcome guest here than you. There was less devastation in Pompeii after Mount Vesuvius erupted, less wreckage when the Titans themselves were set loose on all of Greece!"

"Oh, come off it. Now your just being a grumpy drama queen," I said dryly, peeling some strands of dripping hair out of my eyes with my good hand, " _I'm_ the root of all evil? Not the _Vigil_ and their test tube happy experimentation? Not the bloodthirsty _god_ taking his new vessel for a joyride, trying to fry us with lightning and string us up by our necks? Not the rabid shadow weasels and the football field of a slave ship we just sprinted?"

"It should not be possible. _Skata._ It should not be possible!" Robin raged, ignoring me as he released my wrist and vaulted to his feet again. "How could those pea brained idiots have managed to resurrect _Tyr_?"

"Seeing as their usual reaction to a threat is a suitcase nuke or a sniper rifle, I'm just as shocked as you are at the change in tactics," I admitted, "But I'm putting it down to the fact that they're pea brained idiots that it went this fucking badly."

"What _happened?_ " Cal broke in hoarsely, and resumed coughing up his spleen.

I glanced at him. He had managed to sit up and was swaying a bit, supported by Niko's hand at his back. It was putting it lightly that I didn't have any fond feelings for this kid. If my future existence wasn't dependant on his miraculous survival, I might have even tried to kill him a time or two these past few days. Or ten times, or twenty, or at the very least sliced off a finger. He had been a big enough dick to merit that. But even _I_ didn't dislike him enough to wish _this_ conversation upon him. What happened? You really want to know what happened? Guess what kiddo, Daddy dearest gave you the genetic makeup of the biggest fucktastic _monster_ that's ever sliced and clawed its' way across this planet. You're an abomination terrifying enough to make Stephen King wet his expensive, high thread count sheets, and over the next several years of your life you'll almost lose your humanity more times than I even want to remember. Do you wanna see a really sick trick? Wanna really make your eyes bleed? Pay attention while I slice a hole in the world.

What happened? Shit. _Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit._

"Well," I drawled, stalling, "Once upon a time, in a galaxy far, far away, there was this crazed fruit loop of a god that-"

"No," he interrupted, and cleared his throat, "How did we get..." he gestured at the apartment, splashed a hand through the water around him, "Here? How the hell did we get _here_?"

"Pool party," I said, moving my hand to wring out some of my hair, "After all that drowning I figured we needed some downtime. Robin's gonna have his driver bring up beach balls and foam noodles and some of those floaties that you secure around your arms. You know, the ones with cute yellow duckies. Maybe we'll even bob for bottles of alcohol. Call all the people you don't absolutely loathe and invite them over. It's going to be one hell of a spring break."

Cal's glare deepened. I could tell he really had no idea, that he just thought I was playing with him again. Niko, however, was calm. As calm as he had been while talking on the phone to me when I was drowning from viral pneumonia in a hotel office. As calm as that night Sawney had eaten a fist sized chunk of flesh and muscle out of my chest. As calm as he had been when he had pushed both of us off the roof of the hospital to fall sixteen floors when there was no other escape from the Auphe. Some people yelled when they were upset. Some people threw punches. When Niko was upset, _really_ upset, he became calm.

His serene grey eyes flicked from Cal to me, and back again.

He knew.

Or he had a pretty good idea. It wasn't too surprising that he would figure it out. Unfortunate, but not surprising. Goddamn it, how much of the future was I changing? They already knew Robin a year early, and now this? There needed to be a manual available on all this time travel crap. Hell, maybe I'd write one if I survived all this, title it "Don't Fucking Time Travel" and send it to the presses. Give Nik a signed copy, if only to get an amused smile out of him. If he survived this time around. Please, _please_ let him survive this time around...

"How did we get here?" Cal demanded again, the persistent little shit.

Okay, then. No more stalling. I leaned heavily against the dripping couch and gave Niko an apologetic smile before turning seriously to Cal. "Genetics," I said.


	2. Genetics

**Hello guys! Thank you for your feedback. Here's the next installment for your reading pleasure.**

"Genetics?" Cal questioned, straightening. "What do you mean, genetics?"

He was so, so blind. Dear god, had I ever really been that mind bogglingly oblivious? I mean, the goddamn _catfish_ flopping around at my feet probably understood the implications of how we had arrived at the apartment more than mini-me. "Okay, fine," I began, "I'm going to level with you. I shouldn't, because not only do we have zero time for this, you aren't supposed to get traumatized by this shit for at least another year. And even then, you only figure it out by accident when you nearly get crushed to death by jagged rocks the size of mini vans-"

" _What?_ " Niko said sharply.

"No worries, Nik. The only thing that got hurt was the coffee table," I told him flippantly, and turned back to myself. "Cal. I'm only going to explain this once. The reason we are here right now is because I _gated_ us here."

The little color he had fled his face.

I could've stopped there. I didn't. "You know what gating is. You know because the Auphe dragged you through one _that night,_ " I continued, watching my younger self shrink back against Niko, "It's pure, unfiltered, mind fucking trauma at its finest. Before you get good at it, making a single gate will fill your skull with so much pressure that you're going to think it'll explode. There are gonna be a multitude of times, as you're choking down a cocktail of your own blood and tears, that you'll wish it _would_ , just to get the stabbing pain to quit. But it's a skill. It's a rare skill that's going to save your life, and your brother's, many, many times." I clapped my hands together, hard, highly satisfied when he flinched. "The end." Please, hold your applause, kiddies. _Caliban's Reading Rainbow_ will be on next week, same time, same place.

"Y-you...you can't..."

"Now, I know you hate my half human guts," I interrupted him, "And to be honest I don't fucking care. I'm not going to lose any more sleep over it," My lip curled unpleasantly, displaying as many teeth as I could manage, "That is, any more than you've already cost me. I'm most likely never going to be able to sleep again. But even if everything else I ever tell you bounces off your thick cranium, pay attention now. Do not gate. At all. Don't even _think_ about gating. I'm not sure what it would do to you right now to even see _me_ gate, much less attempt one of your own. We have enough problems with the Vigil and Lazarus without worrying about you bleeding out your ears and going batshit insane. Don't. Gate."

He studied me, mouth still half open. Processing.

"He won't gate," Niko told me quietly, coiling an arm across Cal's chest to steady him and ground him back in reality. "He won't."

I smirked involuntarily, remembering all the times Niko had ordered _me_ not to gate. Had I listened? Occasionally. Mostly not. But hey, whatever. "Good. Fantastic. Glad we could have this little chat," I said, slamming the door on the subject and pushing myself away from the couch. I turned to Robin, who didn't look much better than the other two. "So," I said, "Back to our current dilemma. This god that's after us. Tyr. What's he like? How screwed are we on a scale of one," I held up a finger, "Nameless extras in Star Trek traveling to a planet, to ten, having premarital sex in a horror movie?"

"On the level of..." he swiped a hand across his mouth and trailed off. "Screwed? You honestly ask me how screwed we are? _Dritt."_ He swiped a hand across his mouth. "Odin take whatever scale your infantile sense of self preservation can fathom and shove it up Niko's well toned ass. I haven't the foggiest idea how to even measure the level of screwed we have reached, Caliban. Tyr is a Norse _god_. The god of _war_."

"Eh, big deal," I deadpanned, "There are plenty of war gods out there. Niko's been rambling on about them to me my whole life. Speaking of, think you could manage to leave his ass out of the conversation? He's having a rough enough day without worrying about your lustful wandering eyes."

"My lustful eyes will wander as they wish. And _skata,_ Tyr isn't just _a_ Norse war god. He lies and cheats and slaughters for the fun of it, the butchering bastard. You saw his hair! You saw those bones. Everything he does, he does out of motivation to cause death. His version of fair judgement is a hanging. _Always_ a hanging. Always _guilty._ And now...thanks to the damn Vigil... _gamisou!"_ he trailed off, muttering curses under his breath as he swiped a bottle out of the calm water at his feet and began working the cork off. "Thanks to the _Vigil_ , of which each member's birth certificate should henceforth be replaced by apology letters from a condom factory, Tyr's vessel has been injected with the blood of _paien_. So instead of merely worrying about an assassin trying to kill Cal, we've got a justice hungry god who values heroic glory and wields a supernatural arsenal at his DNA altered fingertips-"

"Try saying that five times fast-"

"Trying to kill Cal," he spoke over me, irritated at the interruption. He took a swig out of the bottle. "Is that _screwed_ enough for you? And to be perfectly clear, I don't think he's just going to stop killing after he fulfills their objective. I do not entertain any fantasies that the Vigil will be able to keep such a warrior in check for very long, no matter how many suitcase nukes you claim they have littering their headquarters."

"Would anyone have knowledge of what specific types of paien blood they injected into his vessel?" Niko interjected, "Maybe if we had a better idea of what he is capable of doing we would be better prepared next time."

Cal laughed and pressed his palms against his eyes. "Better prepared? Nik, he controls lightning, melts bullets, hangs people with invisible nooses and manifests shadow weasels and giant fucking birds," Cal said, scowling as he ticked each ability off on his fingers, "Fuck, Cyrano, that's plenty. Does he really need to be capable of more than that?"

Niko swatted him on the back of the head. "It is always better to know exactly what you are up against, little brother. I know I've taught you that."

I glanced at Robin questioningly. He sighed, and took another long pull from the bottle before answering. "That's wonderful in theory Niko, but short of _asking_ the Vigil that very question-"

"Impossible," I said helpfully.

"I don't think we will be able to isolate which paien DNA they used based on his abilities alone. Besides, we have every reason to believe that he hasn't shown us everything he is capable of as of yet."

"Well, we know he's not Auphe," I said, grinning wickedly as I pulled off my wet jacket and tossed it over a chair. "They think _I'm_ way to much of a goddamn monster to put a single drop of that blood in anything. So go ahead and mark that one down on the 'what's not going to kill us' list. It might be the only thing on there, but hey, progress is progress."

"I find it hard to believe that anyone in their right mind would engineer such a dangerous creature and let it loose in the world just to kill..." Goodfellow paused, looked me up and down, and raised an eyebrow. "You. It seems excessive."

"Yeah, well, to be fair they did try the normal way. if I hadn't forgotten the damn pizza..." _Flesh burned, glass shattered, metal crunched and groaned under the impact. Flesh burned. Flesh burned. Flesh burned...G_ _od, no. No no no no no._

Someone kicked my leg, hard. I half stumbled, glanced down and saw Niko's leg folding discreetly back down to rest underneath the water. His grey eyes studied me, analyzed me, searched for some sign of what he could do, how to fix it. Trouble was, he couldn't. Not really. I needed Nik, and he wasn't...

I gave Niko something that tried, but failed badly, to pass for a smile and swiped the bottle from Robin. I took a long drink and handed it back, then continued the conversation like I wasn't suffering from post traumatic stress syndrome. "I'm really quite loveable. They've got me all wrong, the bastards."

"Clearly," Robin said, following my lead to continue. He reached into his pocket, pulled out a waterlogged cell phone, and winced. "Destroyed. I just got this upgraded, I'll have you know."

"I'm sure you can afford a new one," I said, glancing around, "If we live. And you should probably also renovate your apartment unless you're going for the Venice look."

"You are a plague, Caliban. A curse," he sighed, tossing the phone into the water. "I need to find a phone. No, I need to find dry clothing, and _then_ I need to make a few calls. Figure out if there's any strings I can pull that might give us an advantage against the god. Luckily for us, he is conceited, overconfident, and self obsessed, so he will probably play around with us instead of going for the kill right away, while we're-" he stopped, sword appearing seemingly from mid-air in his hand.

My eyes locked on the door. _Shit._

"What is it?" Niko asked quietly in my ear, already up and standing beside me. I hadn't heard or seen him move, but that was par for the course. He held a hand down to Cal and hoisted him up to his feet.

I swore I had heard something. A few more heartbeats passed, and then-

There.

A second knock on the door. Louder this time than the whisper that had been the first.

"You expecting friends, Goodfellow? Hosting another orgy?" I murmured, glancing his way. Before he could answer a rancid smell smacked me squarely in the face, and I wrinkled my nose and covered half my face with my hand. _Fucking hell._

"What?" Robin asked.

I focused on breathing through my mouth. "Friendly heads up: whatever's out there reeks like Satan's asshole."

A third knock, louder still and managing to resound with impatience, thudded on the door.

"Do you think it's Tyr?" Cal muttered, knife in hand.

"You really think he's polite enough to knock on doors?" I said.

"Then...who? What the hell is it?"

I took the bottle from Robin, swallowed the final drops of alcohol, and tossed the empty vessel into the water beneath us. Wiping the back of my hand across my mouth, I grinned at him and pulled out my Desert Eagle. "Why don't we go say hello?"

 **Thanks for reading, and please review!**


	3. Cabin Fever

**Thanks for the feedback! I'm assuming since we already met Thor, Loki, and Tyr in _Nevermore_ that Norse gods are going to play a large part in the second book as well. So I did research (have you seen Loki's family tree? Seriously, go look that up for a laugh) and I am including gods in my story as well. Enjoy.**

I stomped through the water to the door. "Hey there, gorgeous," I drawled to whatever was lurking behind the wooden frame, "This is your last chance to save your skin. The four of us are packing enough weaponry to fill an armory, and I shoot first and don't give a rat's ass about asking questions, so if you're here to sell kitchen knives, spread religion, or even get me to buy fucking Girl Scout cookies, you're about to get your face shot off."

Robin raised his eyes to the heavens beside me. "I have absolutely no idea how you function in society," he said, "Much less how you ever managed to get laid."

"I get by just fine," I said defensively. I unlocked the door and pushed it open, wedging my Desert Eagle into the gap. The stench intensified to the point where it became an entity of its own. A woman...damn, it was _probably_ a woman...stood beyond the frame, eyes watching with distaste as the water from the apartment gushed around her ankles on its escape into the hallway. "Huh," I said.

Goodfellow made a shocked noise, and I reached over and clamped a hand over his mouth. "Don't tell me, I know this one. Niko was always going on and on and _on_ about gods and shit, and I think I remember..." I trailed off, frowning, "Damn name's on the tip of my tongue. Don't tell me."

She straightened in a motion far too quick to be human, and opened her mouth to speak.

"Shut up a second, lady, I'm thinking," I said, tapping my gun thoughtfully against my head as I studied her, breathing through the smell of decay. That's why it stank so badly, she was decaying. Half of her face could have passed for human, with a blue eye cradled in pale skin and crowned with fiery red hair. But the other half...

A corpse. She was half a corpse, flesh peeling away to reveal yellowing bone, hair thinned and clumped where it had fallen away. Her second eye was dug out down to the socket, but even that seemed to be regarding me with contempt.

"Hel," I said triumphantly, snapping my fingers, "You're Hel," I told her, and turned to Niko and smiled proudly. "She's Hel. See? I do pay attention to you."

Niko's usual zen demeanor shifted momentarily, and his mouth hung slightly open while his eyes drifted in disbelief from me to the walking nightmare past my shoulder. After a few seconds he steeled his gaze. "I'm ecstatic to see that your attention span has finally evolved past that of a two-year-old, Caliban," he said, " _Why_ is she here?" he half directed the query to me, but mostly to the god.

Brothers. Put a goddess on your doorstep and suddenly you're last week's news.

The woman continued to study me. Her lips tightened together in a thin line, sending the left half of her mouth drooping into a sideways slice across her ragged cheek. It was unnerving as fuck, and since I already had enough unnerving fuckery to deal with thanks to the _Kyntalash_ strapped to my arm, slowly draining the life out of me, I didn't find the addition all that welcome. "Listen, princess. We've already got enough problems to deal with because of one god," I told her, "We don't need any more from you. So I'll say it again, put down the Tagalongs and Samoas and then piss off."

Goodfellow groaned.

"What did you do?" Hel spoke to me, words breathed across her lips like crackling paper in a fire.

"O-kay," I said, wincing, "Two things, lady. One: breath mints. Seriously, you need to invest in some. I will drive you to the pharmacy myself if you ask. Secondly, you need to be a lot more specific."

Robin elbowed me sharply in the ribs and then stepped half in front of me, either shielding me from her or trying to stop me from doing anything stupid. It was a toss up. He smiled apologetically at the goddess. "Please ignore my young friend. He has the self preservation of a lemming and all the common sense of a deranged mosquito."

"Hey! I don't-"

Another elbow struck me, this time with enough force to nearly shatter a rib, so I shut up. Robin continued, his voice dripping with sincerity, "I'm sorry to say that you have caught us at a rather bad time, Hel," he said, acting as though gods showed up on his doorstep all the time. They probably did. "Please come back in a month or two after everything has calmed down. I would love to sit down with you and catch up on everything that's happened in the past few centuries. And if you see your father, please pass my regards to him."

"Who's her father?" I muttered in his ear.

"Loki."

"Oh," I said. Her good eye hadn't so much as peeked at Robin the entire time he had spoken to her. Instead, it was trained on me, unblinking, as though she could sear a hole through my skull to find what she was searching for. The attention had already usurped the point of being highly awkward and spiraled straight down to straight jacket status. I grinned at her, flashing my eyes red for a moment as a warning, monster to monster, to fuck off. "I actually met your daddy once," I told her, "At a party. The guy's head over heels in love with his own dick. I'm glad to see he finally managed to father something that wasn't a horse, a snake, or a wolf. Good for him."

Behind me, Cal made a noise somewhere between a cough and a laugh.

Robin shoved me backward. "Would you _stop_!" he hissed at me. He turned back to Hel and began slowly closing the door. "A thousand apologies, my dear. An unfortunate situation has arisen, and we really do need to go and take care of it."

A skeletal arm snapped up from beneath her cloak and held the door open with slender, boney fingers. Her second hand, pale and covered with healthy flesh, reached out and firmly grasped Robin's shoulder to push him away from me. "What did you do?" she demanded, mouth twisting into a rotted snarl. She reached her decaying hand toward me, spreading her fingers wide like claws. I took a step back. I had no intention of letting her touch me.

"Back _off_ _,_ " I said through clenched teeth.

"Robin?" Niko said edgily. The tip of his katana rose into my vision. Stabbing the goddess wasn't exactly his best plan ever, but since most of my plans usually fell along the same mentality, I really had zero room to judge.

"I am Hel, goddess of the dead. Ruler of Helheim. And I demand an answer," she fumed. Black inky symbols blazed across her eye and spiraled downward over her face and neck, just as I had previously seen on Loki. And Tyr. _Shit. "_ What are you?" she thundered, "What. Did. You. Do."

This was starting to mirror the ' _where are your brothers and sisters'_ fiasco all over again. Just as I was about to gate her off somewhere distant, Robin stepped into the fray. He reached out and pushed down her arm and Niko's sword. "Everyone calm down!"

And he thought _I_ was suicidal? Jesus Christ, Goodfellow.

"No weapons," he continued, pushing at the sword again, "No wrathful displays of power," he emphasized strongly to Hel, and then glared at me, as though this mess were my fault somehow, "And absolutely no gating, Caliban."

"This one," Hel spat, clenching her hands, "This one escaped from me. I want to know how. I want it _fixed."_

"Okay, good," Robin said encouragingly, attempting to diffuse the bomb, "He escaped from you. That's good to know. Now let's just talk about this like grown adults-"

"I didn't escape from her," I snapped, "I've never seen her before in my life. Trust me, with a face like that, I'd remember. And I really don't want to know what she means by _fixed._ "

"I am responsible for all the dead. Every death is predetermined, and you," she jammed a finger against my chest, "Were supposed to kill yourself after the others died in the bar."

No one spoke for a moment. "Well aren't you just a bright ray of sunshine?" I said flatly, "I'm disappointed that Goodfellow never mentioned you, we could've hung out more. You want me to get you anything? Some tea? Or are you a coffee drinker?"

"What does she mean everyone died at the bar?" Cal demanded, whirling to face me, "Who died?"

I regarded him with slanted eyes. "You didn't actually think _my_ Nik would have let me come by myself, do you?" I said simply, leaving the devastating truth hanging in the air for him. He blanched.

"You got a letter right after the explosion," Hel told me, "You should not have gotten that letter. Everything is muddled now. The timeline is skewed. And now your people have given Tyr a vessel, and more power. The gods weep."

"Well I'm glad all those holier than us are paying attention to current events," I said bitterly, "But the Vigil are _not_ our people. So I fucked up your ledger of the dead. Big deal. As Robin was trying to tell you, we have bigger problems. We need to go fix the Vigil's mess."

She shook her head, "You escaped from me twice. Once outside the bar. And now again in the water. I cannot overlook the second offence," she said, "What you just did...no one should be able to do that."

I frowned for a moment, trying to remember what I had done. Gate? Why it should be impossible to gate in the water?

Robin seemed to be thinking along the same lines. "Caliban is half Auphe, he can-"

"Hang on..." I interrupted as a bell went off in my head. "This is about the cabin thing, isn't it?"

Her scowl intensified. _Ding ding ding. We have a winner._

"Cabin thing? What cabin thing?" Robin asked curiously, leaning closer.

I shrugged. "Oh, well, it's not that big of a deal. I died in the water. Heart stopped. Wound up in some Amish hellhole of a cabin with two doors, decided I wasn't ready yet for reincarnation and came back."

"You...came back?" Robin said. He pinched the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut. "From the dead? And you didn't think to mention it?"

"We were busy and I forgot. It didn't seem that important. You're welcome, by the way."

"Impossible," Hel murmured, and spat on the floor.

I turned to her, "Is that why you've been throwing this hissy fit? Because I came back? If you're that worried about people doing it you should probably update your system, because it was laughably easy to break. While you're at it, would it kill you to install an AC unit and maybe some cable in that place? It looks like a fucking hobbit hole."

"No one comes back from the dead," she hissed, leaning forward menacingly, "Not unless they are reincarnated. Not unless I _allow it._ "

"I did."

"There will be repercussions!"

"Haven't been any so far. Thanks for the concern though, I'll keep a look out."

The symbols appeared in her eye again and bled across her face. "No. I am bringing you back with me to Helheim."

"You're not taking him _anywhere_ ," Niko said. He fisted the back of my shirt and yanked me back a step away from her.

"Listen, Hel," Robin said to her, stepping in front of me for what seemed like the hundredth goddamn time in ten minutes, "Just think about this for a moment. The Vigil made Tyr a monster and set him loose. That's the biggest threat to everyone right now, not Caliban. You want Tyr stopped."

"Dead," she growled, blood dripping from her lips.

"You want him dead," Robin amended smoothly, and spread his arms, " _We_ want him dead. We are on the same side."

"I want them _both_ dead. Tyr _and_ the half breed, the monster who brought himself back from the dead."

They continued arguing. As their voices escalated, I reached back and swatted away Niko's hand from where it still clutched my shirt. I made a show of rolling my eyes at him. "Gods. People spend thousands of years obsessing over them and it turns out they're just half-witted children that throw tantrums if things don't go their way. Sorry bro."

Niko tilted his head at me, unamused. "I am sure you are not lecturing me about disillusionment at a time such as this."

"Just saying, I know you used to idolize these guys, and meeting them has to be a major let down," I said, raising my voice to be heard over Robin and Hel's explosive argument, "Sorry about that."

The lights flickered and went out. The bickering stopped abruptly, replaced by a monstrous feeling of unease. We had wasted too much time. Cursing, I realized my flashlight was still in my jacket, which was draped over the couch. Of course I still had my gun. I always had my gun. "We need to go," I said.

The scrape of hundreds of tiny claws came from out in the hallway, followed by the pitter patter of tiny feet.

Someone had the bright idea to slam and bolt the door. Moments later, Robin's flashlight glinted light across our faces and threw deep shadows across the walls. "Tyr is back," he said, furious, "We are _not_ prepared for this."

"Her fault," I singsonged, pointing at Hel. Robin's expression darkened, and before he could rebuke me I continued, "I know, I know. Yell at me later. Tell me there's another way out of your apartment. Some secret passageway you've never told me about and only use for your most twisted sex parties or something."

"There is not an inch of this apartment that _isn't_ used for my most twisted sex parties," he hissed, "And no, there isn't another way out."

The sounds in the hallway were getting louder. We backed away from the door, weapons up. "Seriously? We get attacked like twice a month _minimum,_ and you don't have an escape route planned?"

"We just met, Caliban. Forgive me for not being prepared for the unholy amount of supernatural chaos that follows you around daily. If ever attacked, I assumed my extensive collection of guns would take care of the problem."

Hel vanished out of the corner of my eye and didn't reappear. It was probably for the best. I wasn't exactly sure who she would have sided with if Tyr forced her to make a choice. Plus, her stench had started making me lightheaded. The clawing and crawling noises in the hallway halted, leaving us with nothing but the sound of our own breathing.

"Well asshole, any brilliant plans?" Cal growled at me.

"Would it kill you to spice up your insults?" I snipped back, mind racing to figure out a course of action that didn't require gating.

A single furry head poked through the door, leering with jagged teeth. Fantastic. More shadow weasels. "No shooting or chopping the heads off, they grow back," I said levelly, not making a move, "Explosives?"

"I don't make a habit of keeping incendiary devices where I sleep," Robin said indignantly. A second head slipped through the door. Followed by several more. Dozens of eyes shone back at us from the light of the flashlight.

"Okay," I said, resolve tightening as I made a decision. I turned to Cal and squeezed his wrist hard to get his attention.

"Hey!"

"Close your eyes as tight as you can, and don't so much as _peek_ unless you want your brain to melt out your ears. You got that?"

"What the hell are you talking about? _Let go of me_."

The shadow weasels swarmed into the room, through the door, the walls, the ceiling. I spun Cal around and tossed him back against Niko. Then I pushed, bringing the gate into being around the creatures. They paused and then panicked, caught in the unnatural tear in the world, their bared teeth appearing even more sinister in the swirling bruise of color. I slammed it shut on them, and they were gone. Shadow weasels hated light, right? Let's see how much fun the fuckers had on the goddamn _sun_.

A second group was already coming after us without pause. I repeated the process, and then turned to Robin. "Tell me you have an idea here," I snapped, "Because I'd rather not do this all day."

"Can you gate us out?"

"Is there anywhere on the Earth the bastard won't just follow us?" Another gate swallowed the next round of creatures, and I didn't even wait before building the next. I didn't look at Niko. I couldn't. I wasn't ready to see the expression on his face.

"No," Goodfellow said honestly.

"Well, that's not-" I broke off, gating away more of the shadows, "Very helpful then, is it? And anyway, if I take you guys-" I slammed another tear shut, "Through a gate you are all going to be _worthless_ at fighting, hell, you probably won't even be able to _stand_ -" I gritted my teeth against the pain that was building to a crescendo in the back of my skull as I ripped another gate open. "For several minutes. It took years for you and Nik to just step through a gate and not get sick."

"Hang on, Caliban, I'm thinking," he said.

The pain was slowly building to migraine status. I wasn't sure what was the cause. Maybe it was too many gates, or the _Kyntalash_ was draining my stamina, or my body was rebelling from lack of food or lack of sleep, or maybe...maybe...

Maybe I just really needed to see my brother. _F_ _uck._ I send the next group of weasels up to the sun to join their brethren and staggered back a step, head spinning even as I watched more glinting eyes pop out of the woodwork. Goodfellow could brainstorm all he wanted, there wasn't a way out of this.

I was about to make yet _another_ gate when a boom of thunder sent vibrations down my spine. I was suddenly horribly aware that we were all standing ankle deep in water while facing off against a god that controlled lightning. Just crown me the king of bad luck and get it over with.

"Little Aupheling," Tyr said, his voice echoing in the hallway as another gate swallowed more of his creations, "Time for judgement."

The wooden door splintered and exploded inward, showering me with debris. He was there, standing right behind the door, his creatures swarming around his feet. Screw it. He wanted Cal dead. But I? I was one hell of a distraction. I whirled around and punched Cal with just enough force to knock him out so that he wouldn't be conscious for what I did next. His knees buckled and Niko caught him against his shoulder. Our eyes locked for a second. His face was unreadable, but he must've seen something in my expression because he flung out a hand to grab onto my arm. " _Don't_ ," he said desperately.

I stepped back and gated the three of them away.

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	4. Breakdown

**Thank you for your reviews! Here's another long chapter. Enjoy.**

It only took seconds for Tyr to realize that I'd effectively paused his playtime. The arrogant, triumphant expression he had worn moments ago when he broke the door into splinters morphed into something much more sinister. He growled deep in his throat, eyes narrowing to slits. " _Where_ are they?"

"Sorry about your toys, kiddo," I said flatly, one lip curling in satisfaction at his blatant irritation, "But they're mine. And I don't share well with others."

The god's fists clenched so tightly that blood dripped from his nails into the water at his feet. "You cannot hide them," he sneered, tossing his head slightly so that the bones in his hair rattled hollowly like macabre wind chimes.

The hair on the back of my neck prickled, but I stood my ground. Robin had dropped his flashlight during his quick exit, and the submerged beam barely illuminated the shadow weasels as they inched closer, saliva dripping from their teeth.

I was going to die, I realized, highly annoyed. _Again_. Twice in a single hour. Nik would have been _livid_. I could nearly hear his stern voice rebuking me amidst the throbbing migraine that threatened to obscure my vision. _Pay attention_ _, little brother. Y_ _ou need to put that cobweb infested brain of yours to work. Cal? Make a plan._

"Tell me where you sent them," Tyr said, "Or I will snap your neck and find them anyway."

He raised a hand and I felt the invisible rope coil around my throat. A sputtering laugh escaped my lips. "They're my _family_ , you dick," I rasped, "You really think I'm going to give them up? Fuck you." My lungs were already starting to burn, and I'd had enough of his vengeful play for one day. I built a gate around myself and passed through, coming out behind him. Glorious air flooded my lungs, and before he could turn I built a second, smaller gate inside his chest. Right where his heart would be.

There was a sickening crunching sound. Tyr stumbled but remained on his feet. _Shit._ His head turned slowly, staring me down with disgust. "You..." he snarled. "You dare?"

The shadow weasels lunged for me in a maddened frenzy and I retreated through another gate to come out on the other side of the room from the god. A few of the creatures had clamped down on my bare arms and hung on with their teeth. I ripped them off like band-aids, watching the blood and gore tearing off my skin with an odd detachment as I flung their twisting bodies at the wall. Several dozen rushed me, but I sent them shrieking up to the sun to burn with the others.

Tyr held up a hand, and the rest of his creations halted and then disappeared. I barely had time to take a shuddering breath before a bolt of lightning shattered through the window behind me. I vanished in a swirl of gray, and reappeared crouched atop the kitchen counter. Lightning sparked around Tyr in a swirl of electricity that made my eyes ache from the sudden brightness. He strode toward me like goddamn Michael Myers. His shoes cut through the electrified water like a knife. He tilted his head, eyes burning like fire through mine. "You think you can defeat me? The war? _Judgement?_ "

My fingers tightened around the lip of the counter to the point where I was certain I was leaving imprints in the marble. My eyes flashed red, the same color as the blood gushing down my arms like sleeves. "You can count on it, princess," I snapped back. I opened three gates inside his chest in quick succession, satisfied when the bastard actually staggered back a few steps. Blood trickled from the corner of his lips. I could barely see it through the blood dripping from my own eyes, but the blurred sight still made me giddy as hell. He might be a god, but I was something equally ancient and terrifying.

I could hurt him.

Tyr bellowed and flung a hand up, tightening another noose around my neck until my bones ground together. I barely noticed. My migraine felt like some bastard was scooping out my brain with an icepick, and the accompanying nausea already made breathing nearly impossible. Expelling the last ounce of energy I had left, I opened two more gates inside of him and then made one final gate for myself as a bolt of lightning sliced toward me.

I tumbled facedown onto the cool ground. Blades of grass wisped gently across my eyelashes as I coughed air back into my starved lungs. The damn _Kyntalash_ was digging into my forehead, and I gritted my teeth and dragged the arm out from underneath me. God I hated that fucking device.

I spat out the mouthful of blood that had pooled around my teeth and slowly rolled over so that I was facing the sky, one knee curled up. A bird spiraled in the air above me, but I could hardly make out the shape through my blurred vision. I wiped a hand over my eyes to clear them and ended up smearing the blood and making it worse. On the upside, I didn't seem to be bleeding out. I gave the bites on my arm a casual once-over and chalked them down to surface wounds. They probably needed several stitches, but ever since Sawney's late night snack attack all other bites seemed insignificant.

With my wounds throbbing in time with my head, I pushed myself into a sitting position and fished my cell from my pocket with blood slicked fingers. I'd sent the others to the motel we'd stayed at in Illinois where Suyolak had given me a lethal dose of pneumonia. Good times. It was away from New York, which made it as good a place as any to hide until we came up with a plan. Assuming Tyr hadn't just popped right over and murdered them.

I dialed the number I knew by heart and held the phone up to my ear. It didn't even ring once before my brother answered. "Where the hell are you?"

"You guys rent a room yet?" I asked lightly, trying to keep my words from slurring, "Just settle in and lay low. It's a two star motel, super classy, hardly any unidentifiable stains on the beds-"

"Goddamn it, Cal," he hissed, "Where are you?"

 _Cal. He called me Cal._ I swallowed hard against the rush of unexpected emotion. "Somewhere...in a forest. I'm fine. I'm gonna wait a few minutes before I head over. I think I managed to hurt him, but I still need to make sure the psycho isn't following me."

"You do _not_ sound fine," Niko said calmly, seeing through my bullshit as easily as he always had. "How bad is it?"

I smirked and squeezed my eyes shut. It was almost possible to pretend for a moment that it was really him on the phone, that he hadn't died. I wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry. "It's adorable how you worry, Cyrano," I said, and ended the call.

I spent the next ten minutes trying to even out my breathing and wish away my mother of a headache. Fortunately the bites on my arms weren't bleeding much anymore, but as usual Niko was right. I wasn't fine. Gating like this wasn't going to do me any favors. It made my stomach churn to leave the others alone while Tyr was still at large, but I had to at least make sure I wasn't going to come out of a gate and drown in a pool of my own vomit in the parking lot. Common sense.

They weren't going to perish in the fifteen goddamn minutes I took to recover.

It wasn't like they couldn't take care of themselves.

They were grown adults.

Robin was...and Niko wouldn't...

 _Shit. Shit, shit, shit..._

Thirty seconds later my hyperactive imagination had kindly scrolled through fifty graphic ways that Niko and Robin...and Cal, I suppose...could have been killed without me there to help them, ranging from death by homicidal gods to freak heart attacks to some random guy named Steve waving a loaded gun around because his wife left him and he was off his meds and he'd experimented with bath salts earlier that morning...

Yeah. I'd damn well waited long enough.

I climbed slowly to my feet and forced the gate into existence. The experience was just as fabulous as I could've hoped, but I managed to come out of the gate on my feet and then _stay_ on my feet as I surveyed the lot. Miracles do happen.

"You idiot," Niko snarled. I nearly fell over in surprise, but no, still managed to stand. Thank you miracle number two.

"How did you..." I trailed off incredulously, "Where did you even come from? Goddamn ninja powers-"

"Shut up," he snapped, "Just shut up." He slung one of my arms over his shoulder and half dragged me to one of the rooms. I could feel my blood soaking into his shirt with every step. He was shaking. Why was he shaking?

Robin yanked the door open before Niko could even reach for the doorknob. He looked me over and cursed under his breath. "Zeus preserve us. Get in here and sit down before you fall on your _poutanas yie_ ass," he ordered, guiding me to the bed across from where Cal was passed out on top of a suspiciously stained pillow. Maybe I'd hit him harder than I intended. Or maybe I'd hit him just as hard as the little shit deserved. Details, details.

Goodfellow snapped his fingers in front of my face. I scowled and refocused. "I'm fine."

"You're _suicidal_ ," he erupted, leaning down to examine the bites on my arms, " _Skata. What?_ Did you offer yourself up to the beasts as dinner?"

"Would you stop that!" I said, swatting his fingers away from the wounds, "They just stopped bleeding, you masochist. And I hate to break it to you, but this isn't exactly the first time something's tried to eat me. Apparently I taste like aged sirloin," I swallowed hard, the mere mention of meat nearly bringing up bile in my throat. "I pair impressively with a good red wine."

He scoffed disapprovingly. "You just took on a god by _yourself._ Even when you were Caiy and whoring around with the chieftain's daughters, even when you set his damn _tent_ on fire, even then you showed some inkling of sense!"

I sat up straighter and shook a finger at him. "Quit the dramatics. If you're going to bring that up, don't twist the facts. _You_ were the one who promised his oldest daughter that you were going to whisk her away from all her troubles and, hmm, what was it? Oh yeah. Build her a fucking palace made of gold and silver, with hundreds of servants to wait on her every need-"

"At least I didn't steal his horses. Like _some_ people."

"The horses were at least _useful_ for _income-_ "

"That. Is. _Enough_!" Niko exploded, his usually calm tone raising to a uneven crescendo.

I flinched as his voice cracked on the last word, and anything else I might have said was swallowed up by his raw display of emotion. I looked at him. _God_. He was still shaking. Not enough that anyone else would have noticed, but I did. And it was enough for me to feel like the biggest dick in the room. I hadn't realized Niko was this close to snapping.

I'd been so blindly focused on getting _my_ family back, drowning in memories of my own past, that I hadn't paid enough attention to the damage I was causing here. Before I showed up, Niko had had his hands full worrying about the Auphe dragging his brother back to Tumulus. That alone would have been enough to put even Kesuke Miyagi in diapers. Now, all thanks to me, he had to worry about monsters breaking into his apartment, time travel, reincarnation, at _least_ two gods that wanted to end us, and the knowledge that his baby brother, _who he absolutely couldn't live without_ , was a year or two away from becoming some gating happy monstrosity. And I'd just dumped it all in his lap with the notion that he would handle it.

Yeah, I'd fucked up. Big time. "Niko-"

"Shut up!" he enunciated angrily, reaching up with shaky hands and brushing away a few damp strands that had come loose from his braid, which he then began to undo with rough, jerky movements. When he finished his hands lowered to his sides and clenched so tightly that his knuckles went a pasty white under the strain.

He was fighting to regain his usual control. Fighting to reign his fear back in deep and bury it out of sight. This was all my fault. My stomach clenched.

"Shut up," he ordered me again, before I could come up with anything to say. He turned to Robin. "What exactly can we do now to overcome this situation? There has to be a way we can fight back."

"I'm going to make a call," Goodfellow said soothingly. He patted Niko's shoulder on his way to pick up the yellowing phone on Cal's bedside table. He put it to his ear and frowned. "Thirty six dollars for a motel room," he said wryly, replacing it in the cradle, "Sadly, you get what you pay for. There's no dial tone. I will check the main desk."

"Who are you calling?" I asked.

"Loki. If we must fight a god, we could use another god's help. Besides, he owes me several favors."

I raised an eyebrow. "The shithead has a phone?"

"Everyone wants to be modern these days," Goodfellow explained, waving a hand dismissively. He left, quietly closing the door behind him after assuring us that he would only be gone a few minutes.

Niko turned away from me and began slowly re-braiding his hair. The silence stretched oppressively between us, disturbed only by the even sound of Cal breathing. I couldn't stand it. The man might not be _exactly_ my brother, but he was close enough. He didn't deserve any of this. "Niko..." I said, and stopped, unsure of where to even start. I exhaled and dropped my head in my hands. "All the gating and shit, I mean...Cal's gonna be fine. You're not going to lose him to that. Or the Auphe. I promise."

He wouldn't look at me. His fingers continued to methodically twist order back into his hair. "How am I going to lose him, then?"

I lifted my head up off my hands and gave him a small smile. "You won't."

His eyes snapped up, studying me. For what, I wasn't sure. "How do you _know_?" he demanded.

Well, at least that one was easy to answer. "Cause I won't let it happen, big brother. Trust me."

" _Trust_ you?" he said, voice raising again. "You just took on a god and several hundred of his monster pets _by yourself,_ you imbecile! Why would you do that? That has got to be the most half-witted, precarious, suicidal act I have _ever_ laid eyes upon! And you're _bleeding_ , and..." he trailed off and turned away from me again, "Goddamn it."

"Tyr would have killed all three of you," I said softly, "In addition to the shadow weasels, which your weapons can't hurt, he brought his lightning out to play. There was water all over the apartment floor. It's basic science. You know what would've happened."

He whirled back around, shaking his head in denial. "That doesn't matter. We could have helped."

"No. You couldn't," I said. I could count on one hand the number of times I'd seen my brother fall apart this badly. This had to be in the top three. "Niko..."

He was already building his walls back up. "Don't, Caliban. Just...don't," he said, throwing his finished braid back over his shoulder. He steeled his gaze and examined the wounds on my arms. "Forgive my outburst. You did not need to hear any of that. You require stitches before you die of your own stupidity. When Goodfellow returns I will send him to get supplies for-"

"Niko, just...stop for a second, okay?" I said tiredly.

"Present circumstances do not allow us time to stop. I trust even you can comprehend that much."

"Nik," I said, holding an arm out, "Come here."

He stared wearily at the arm like I was offering him a python. "Why?"

"Humor me, okay?" I said. When he still didn't move, I played my little brother trump card. "Please?"

He signed in exasperation but did what I asked and walked over to me, still avoiding my outstretched arm. "What?" He asked suspiciously. I wrapped the arm around him and yanked him down so that he half fell on me. His muscles tensed for a moment, but when I wouldn't let go he took a shuddering breath and buried his head against my shoulder.

"Now _you_ shut up a second," I said teasingly, throwing his earlier words back at him, "No one is losing anybody. I'm going to pull a majestic plan out of my ass that will fix this fucking disaster faster than Doc Brown and his DeLorean. So quit your worrying."

"It is my nature to worry," Niko grumbled against my shirt.

"And you do it better than anyone. But...seriously, don't. I owe you this one."

He was quiet for a moment, and then continued in a much steadier voice. "And do you owe me this tediously long hug as well?"

"What, this? This is a manly hug," I scoffed, unable to let go of him just yet. I was ninety-percent sure I needed the hug even more than he did. It felt like if I let go he would explode into a million pieces. "But you only get this one. Don't go getting greedy on me. Besides, I don't think Junior's going to even want you _talking_ to me when he wakes up from his little siesta."

"Understandable. You punched him in the face."

"Technically I was being nice. But he did kinda deserve it," I said, and poked him lightly in the side. "Want to hear something screwy?"

"No."

"This reminds me of when I had amnesia and you were trying to reel me back in. Except you were the one that tricked me into a hug that day," I remembered aloud, and smirked, "I was a massive jackass back then too, so not much has changed on that front. Except for the apron, obviously. And I haven't tried to stab Goodfellow with a fork this time around. Yet," I finished deviously.

"I'm not sure how to even respond to that."

"You probably shouldn't, it's future stuff. Forget I said anything," I said, and reluctantly let go of him. I gave him a little push to recover a scrap or two of my dignity and then stood and headed toward the bathroom. "Three cheers for group therapy. I'm going to go wash my arms in the sink so that I don't get supernatural rabies."

I shut the door behind me and felt layers of exhaustion settle over my bones. Sighing, I gripped the edges of the sink tightly for support and rested for a moment.

"If the sink looks even remotely like the bedspread," Niko's voice carried through the closed door, "You will most likely contract even more diseases from the use of it."

Snorting, I straightened up and reached to turn on the tap.

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	5. The Deal

As soon as Cal woke up, he hurled a lamp at my head.

It was one of those tarnished lamps from the seventies with an orange dust encrusted shade. More of a fire hazard than an light source, really. The damn thing slammed against the wall with enough force to actually leave a good sized dent. Color me impressed.

I straightened up and kicked a few fragments of broken lightbulb underneath the dresser. "Morning, sunshine."

"You goddamn son of a bitch," Cal snarled.

I smiled continued stitching up a particularly nasty bite on my left arm. "Untwist your panties, kiddo. We've got god-killing on the agenda today, so there's zero time for you to throw an adolescent hissy fit."

"You _punched me_ in the _face_ , you asshole!"

"I needed you unconscious so that I could gate you away from our new friend the lightning thief," I said, watching as he pushed himself further up on the bed, fists clenched like he was getting ready to launch himself at me, "Death by electrocution? Not a spectacular way to die. You know, convulsions, piss running down your legs, all that jazz. And that punch that's got you so choked up? Barely a tap. You're not even sporting a black eye. So you're welcome."

His mouth opened and shut several times as he floundered for a response. Finally, he turned instead to Niko, who was sitting cross-legged on the other bed. "You're okay with this?" he demanded coldly.

"With what?"

"With _what_?" Cal exploded, vaulting up and standing by his brother, "With _him._ "

I eyed the finger pointed at my face with indifference, and then made another stitch. I waved my fingers at him in a gesture to carry on.

"What about him?" Niko asked wearily.

"Seriously? You really have to ask?" Cal snapped, "Niko, we were fine. We were fine, minding our own business, and then this asshole shows up. And now? Now every goddamn creepy crawly, fang sprouting dick face has it out for us."

"We were never fine by any means, little brother."

"Fine for _us._ Whatever. I mean... _f_ _uck_ ," he ran a hand over his face, the anger in his eyes burning out to be replaced by something else. Something weary, uncertain, and _scared._ He dropped to his knees beside the bed and reached out a hand to rest it on his brother's knee. "What the hell are you _doing_ , Nik?"

Niko looked at him but didn't say anything.

"Caliban let that fucking poisonous monster bite me a few days ago at the apartment. He slugged me just now, right in front of you," Cal continued, his voice a hurt whimper, "And you're just _sitting there_."

Niko's eyes snapped up to meet mine for a brief moment, then darted sideways. "I trust him."

I made another neat stitch over the wound. Well, goodie for me. My brother didn't think I was a raving lunatic anymore. It was practically a Hallmark moment, with warm fuzzies for everyone.

Except Cal. I recognized the implications those three seemingly innocent words would have on a younger me, and it didn't bode well. Niko trusting someone else? Highly unlikely. Niko trusting someone else _over_ his brother? Mind fuckingly unacceptable. The kid was going to lose his shit. I considered retreating to the bathroom.

Cal's expression had darkened exponentially. He yanked his hand back like he had been bitten and sank back on his haunches. "No," he said, "You never trust anyone _._ Just me. Just _us._ It's always been just us."

"Cal, he _is_ you," Niko said earnestly.

"No he fucking isn't! He's not me, goddamn it!" he stood, radiating fury, " _I'm_ me _._ I'm here. Standing right in front of you. Please just...just _listen_ to me!"

"I am listening to you. I always listen to you."

"Then let's _leave_ ," Cal pleaded, desperate, "He isn't _me,_ Nik. I don't trust him. He keeps doing things that he thinks are right and they're _not._ He keeps secrets from us. We _never_ keep secrets from each other. _Never._ He's going to screw up and get us killed."

I winced and finished the stitching. Nothing like a vote of confidence from a younger you to get you motivated in the morning.

Cal took a few hopeful steps toward the door. "Let's just go. _Please_ Nik. Let's just go."

Niko hesitated for a moment, and then exhaled and shook his head. "We can't," he said softly, getting up. He walked over to Cal, so slowly that it seemed he was afraid that one wrong move would send the kid running in the other direction.

"Why not?" Cal demanded bitterly, "Because you trust that freak more than me?"

"Do not say things you know are false. You know better than that," Niko said sternly, grabbing his arm, "You are my little brother. I know that, and believe me when I say that I trust you more than anyone. But there is a god trying to kill you."

"I know. It...it sucks, but it's okay," Cal assured him, "We'll deal with it together. Like always."

Niko shook his head. When he spoke it was only reluctantly. "I do not have the ability to keep you safe anymore. Not against that."

I could see in his eyes that the admission hurt Niko more than he was letting on. He fully believed it was his responsibility to protect Cal from everything. But now? Some things were impossible, even for super ninja big brothers.

"You kept me safe from the Grendels," Cal protested stubbornly, unwilling to accept reality, "We moved around. Stayed hidden. We could do the same now."

I frowned. Screw me, but I was actually starting to feel sorry for mini-me. The truth hurt, and if anyone was going to give the kid some tough love, it might as well be me. Niko looked like he could use a break. "Sorry kiddo," I interrupted from my corner of the room, "But that's not true. The Auphe could have taken you any time they wanted."

"Stay out of this," Cal growled.

"It's no good hiding from them," I continued, "Nik and I found out years ago that the Auphe always knew exactly where I was. The only reason they haven't already killed Niko and dragged you down to Tumulus is because the bastards have a multitude of plans in store for you. Not because you're good at hiding."

"Fuck you."

I probably deserved that. I shrugged. "The point is, if you can't hide from the Auphe, you definitely can't hide from a god."

"And you're supposed to save us, huh? You're just hanging out in a hotel room. You don't even have a plan."

"Robin is using the payphone in the lobby," Niko said calmly, "He is trying to get another god to help us."

I groaned. The bathroom retreat was sounding more and more appealing by the minute.

Cal threw his hands up in the air, laughing bitterly. "Oh, of course, the _Puck_ is going to help. The other monster. You trust him too, don't you?"

"Caliban says he is our friend. We should trust him unless he proves otherwise."

"Ah yes, _Caliban_ , your new favorite brother," Cal snapped, voice raising to a shout, "Of course if _he_ says the Puck is our friend, he's your friend too. Instant friends!"

"Cal, stop it-"

"Well he's not _my_ friend. And Caliban isn't _me._ Fuck, Cyrano. Are you even listening to yourself? You're trusting everyone but me! _I'm_ your family!"

The door opened. "Well, I managed to get Loki on the phone and he should..." Goodfellow trailed off, staring at the scene in front of him. He actually took a small step back. "Um..."

Cal yelled something unintelligible and darted into the bathroom. He slammed the door behind him.

"Hades," Robin muttered, looking bewilderedly at the two of us, "What did I miss?"

"Nothing, Dr. Phil," I said, dropping the needle and leftover thread on the dresser, "Friendly family discussion. It might be a good idea for you to hide the forks."

His eyebrows raised slightly. "Forks?"

"Give it a few years, you'll understand," I waved, dismissing any further questions. "So...Loki?"

"On his way. Unfortunately, I am not sure how sympathetic he will be to our cause. I was able to ascertain that his daughter just dropped by for a visit."

"Half skeleton girl? Reeks like a porta potty that's been sitting in full sun for twenty years? That daughter?"

"His only daughter, Hel. Yes," Robin corrected automatically. He sighed. "Naturally she has informed him of her desire to kill you. He seemed disturbed by your escape from death."

I laughed, running a hand over my face. "Should I gather the torches and pitchforks?"

Goodfellow frowned. "I don't expect him to try to kill us. As I said, he owes me several favors-"

"The likes of someone as flighty and insignificant as _you_ does not deserve any favors, Puck," Loki said, appearing in the room. He locked the three of us with an icy stare strong enough to freeze even serial killers dead in their tracks. I swear the temperature in the room dropped by at least ten degrees.

His look was a difference of night and day from when I'd last seen him at the party. The Native American Fabio guise was gone. Instead, Loki's suit was as black as the sky on a moonless night, so sleek and sharp that looked like it had been cut by God's tailor that very morning. His black hair was cut short and was brushed back from his forehead. The bastard was actually wearing sunglasses. "Well look who it is," I said with a bright smile, "Loki. God of Chaos, Mischief, and Bigoted Dickery. Nice shades. Did you come straight here from a meeting at the Pentagon?"

Robin held up a hand testily. "Henceforth, if you value your head, a simple 'hello' will suffice, Caliban."

"I think not," Loki rebutted, looking me up and down with a sneer, "The Auphe creature is a waste of flesh and unworthy to speak a single word to the lowest of my kind, much less to me. His worthlessness exceeds that of a single cell organism, he is the lowest and most parasitic member of the animal kingdom, and has no redeeming social value."

Robin swallowed and glanced in my direction, clearly expecting retaliation on my end.

He needn't have worried. Knowing what to expect from Loki this time around, his wordiness and self-centered arrogance all seemed much less antagonizing. Almost endearing, really. Even if everyone else from this past reality was vividly different, at least I could count on this shithead to be exactly the same. "Aw, shucks," I said, smiling at the familiarity of the exchange, "I'm flattered. You really know how to make a guy blush, you know that?"

Loki scowled and tilted his head to the side, as though unsure what to think of me. He reached up and removed his sunglasses. "Do not speak to me again, pathetic halfwit. I will rip your spine from your infantile form and feed the dripping marrow to hellhounds."

"Yeah, that sounds like oodles of fun," I said, laughing, "Listen. We've already done this spiel once before. I just want to warn you, if you accuse me of eating slices of babies on crackers I'm going to gate different parts of you to different corners of the Earth. Understand? Now let's quit dicking around and brainstorm how we're going to fix this mess."

"I do not have a mess to fix."

"Tyr is a god that's going to destroy the world," I told him lightly, leaning closer to him, "You are also a god. You live in the world."

"I live in many worlds."

"Pull your head out of your ass. You can live in as many worlds as you goddamn please, but if Tyr initiates Ragnarok you're just as screwed as the rest of us lowlifes. You and I both know what that day means for you."

I'd done my research. I might not know much about the president, the stock market, or who won the Super Bowl last year, but living with Niko had taught me about Ragnarok. It was the end times in Norse Mythology, a series of events that ultimately ended in the doom of gods and humans alike. The whole goddamn prophesy was neatly written down, down to the last detail of who was going to kill who and where the final battle would happen. The most hilarious fucking thing about it was that the poor bastards were going to go through with it, to act it out like a showing of _Romeo and Juliet_ on Broadway, even though they were going to die at the end.

Winners? There would be no winners. There were sides, yes, all the usual good verses evil shit, but at the end of Ragnarok? Everyone was going to be dead.

I wasn't stupid enough to believe that Loki was one of the good guys. The trickster initiated trouble for shits and giggles, and he rained destruction everywhere he went. That was fantastic. I needed that, I needed someone that wasn't boring and tied down by moral obligations. I needed someone diabolical that would fight to keep Ragnarok from happening, or at the very least have the balls to try to change the script.

The bathroom door creaked open to reveal Cal standing in the frame. He eyed Loki wearily.

Loki snorted in disgust and turned to me. "So my daughter was telling me truth. There are two of you maggot infested corpses roaming the Earth."

"Nah," I said with a grin, "Cal here is his own person. He's not me. We just thoroughly established that little tidbit a few minutes ago."

"Loki," Goodfellow interrupted, stepping forward, "We need your help, old friend. The Vigil have gone too far, crafted Tyr a vessel, given him even more power. We need to stand together to defeat him, or the fool will ruin us all."

"I know."

"So you will help us?" Robin asked hopefully.

Loki returned his piercing gaze to me. "Tyr may foolishly and prematurely bring about Ragnarok. That much is true," he said, jabbing a finger into my chest, "But I will not assist the abomination that escaped death. Once the Auphling is back in Helheim where he belongs, once he is back in my daughter's domain, only then will I honor my favor to you and lend my assistance, Puck."

I scowled and flicked his finger away. "Don't get all touchy feely, I don't swing that way," I said, and crossed my arms as I stared him down, "And just for your information, I'm not going anywhere until I'm sure the world doesn't end. Not to Helheim, not to the Shire, not to the goddamn North Pole to visit Santa's workshop. Got that?"

"Then I will not help," Loki said firmly.

"Okay," Robin interrupted, "Loki. Just...think about this for a moment, alright? You're my friend. Forget that you owe me a favor. Don't help us because I'm asking you to repay me, help us because if you don't then you will die. Everyone will die. Do you understand that?"

He shook his head. "I will not help."

Fuck. The bastard was stubborn. I gritted my teeth and looked away, trying to think of how to change his mind. We needed the god's help. Without him we wouldn't need to worry about the possibility of Ragnarok because we'd be bloated corpses within a day. Loki turned to leave. "How about a compromise?" I said.

He tilted his head at me while his lips twisted into a smile. "I'm listening, filth."

Niko had remained a silent spectator up to this point, but now he growled and grabbed my arm with enough force that it hurt. He spun me so that I was looking at him. "No. Absolutely not," he hissed, "You will not do this. Making deals with gods is both foolhardy and suicidal."

"Do you seriously think I don't know that?" I shot back, wrenching my arm away, "We don't have a choice, Nik. We need help, you said that yourself. Tyr is a god. He isn't going to just behave and be a good boy once he kills Cal. He's not going to listen to the Vigil. If Tyr unleashes hell on Earth and starts the fucking apocalypse, we need someone on the inside. Someone who knows the other gods," I looked at Robin, and narrowed my eyes, "Do you know _all_ the gods, Goodfellow?"

Robin pursed his lips, clearly frustrated with the situation. "No," he admitted reluctantly.

That was a crying shame. It would have made everything a lot easier. I turned to Loki, "Let's talk. Privately," I growled, and walked out of the apartment, ignoring the others' objections.

I walked about halfway across the vacant lot and leaned against a lamppost. The wounds on my arms throbbed painfully, and I concentrated on that rather than the offer I was about to make. I kicked a few chunks of gravel into a gaping pothole, watching them splash into the water that had settled at the bottom.

Loki appeared in front of me. "Make it good, abomination," he sneered arrogantly, putting his designer sunglasses back on.

"Okay shithead, here's the deal. You help us kill Tyr. Help us stop him from destroying the world, from starting Ragnarok," I told him, and took a deep breath, "If you do that, when we're all done, if you still want me dead I'll let you kill me. Shoot me, stab me, hack off my limbs with a fucking chainsaw for all I care. I'll go down to Helheim like a good boy and stay there and play house with your daughter for a few billion years. I'll even pick out the curtains and paint the walls if you want."

He studied me. "You would let me kill you?"

I snorted and kicked another stone into the pothole. "I'm not that much of an asshole to value my own tainted hide over the lives of every man, woman, and child on the planet. It's kinda become my job, saving people from monsters just like me. I'm good at it. Tyr is just another monster to annihilate. You'll see," I said, confidently. I stood tall and held a hand out. "Shake on it, you bastard."

He reached out and gripped my hand. His flesh was hard and cool like marble, and his grip ground my bones together. "I will help you kill Tyr," he said, "And then I will choose when and how you will die."

"Lovely," I grinned, pulling my hand back. I started walking back to the hotel room. "Come on, jackass. Let's get this party started."

 **Please review!**


	6. Maximum Effort

**Thank you for your feedback! This is a really long chapter. I couldn't decide where to divide it since the action just kept moving, so I just posted the whole thing. You're welcome. Enjoy!**

"What did you do?" Niko snapped the second Loki and I walked back inside the hotel room.

"What? Me? I didn't do anything," I lied smoothly. No way was I was telling them anything about the deal right now. The implications of it were huge, probably bigger than I realized, and I was probably going to hate myself for it later.

"Loki came back with you. That means you made a compromise. What was it?" Niko prodded, not buying the lie.

"You worry too much," I said. At least that much was the truth. I glanced sideways at Cal. The kid was studying me with a dark expression on his face. Did he guess what I'd done? Hell, I'd probably just screwed him over just as badly as I'd screwed myself. As much as I hated to admit it, Cal had been right; I lied and I kept secrets. I was probably making decisions that were going to get him killed.

I kept telling myself that everything was going to be worth it in the end. If the world didn't end, if men and women woke up next Monday hating their jobs and listening to their bratty kids complain that they wanted pancakes instead of oatmeal, normal stuff, it would be worth it. Obviously. As for me? I was selfish. As long as Niko lived this time around, as long as I could just _talk_ to my real brother one more time before Loki blew me away, that would make everything okay.

"Loki's agreed to pal along with us on our quest to send Tyr packing," I said, and slapped the god playfully on the shoulder.

He glared at me and gently brushed off his suit with cleanly trimmed nails. "Do not do that again unless you want your arm incinerated, you worthless maggot."

"See? The guy's a barrel of fun."

"Perhaps we should focus on figuring out how to kill Tyr," Goodfellow interjected sternly, "Instead of antagonizing each other. It is only a matter of time before the pompous monstrosity shows up and tries to electrify us again. I'd prefer to be ready."

"You cannot be ready for him," Loki said dismissively, "He will only kill you. He will only kill all of us."

"And here I thought _I_ was the negative one," I said, and grinned, "Are you saying he's a better god than you are? Are you feeling inferior?"

"Inferior to _Tyr_?" Loki snapped. He took out a silver case and tapped a cigarette into his hand. He lit it with a flick of a finger and took a long drag before continuing. "Tyr is an ancient god, a _dust_ god. All but forgotten. He was once the god of war, but Odin has long since usurped his claim on that title. He is _nothing_."

I smirked, realizing that I'd manage to hit a nerve. I'd have to remember that. "Fine. Tyr sucks. All hail the great and powerful Loki."

"God of Chaos and-"

"Mischief. Yeah, big guy. We know. It's practically seared on my brain. Now can we please move on?" I said, and rubbed my temples slightly to work away the rest of my lingering headache. "So maybe we lowly beings can't kill Tyr. Someone has to be able to manage it."

Goodfellow nodded. "Your son, Fenrir," he said encouragingly to Loki, "He managed to bite off Tyr's hand once. Can he do it again?"

"Who?" I asked.

Niko frowned. "So you listen to me sometimes, but not always?" he said, voice laden with disappointment. "I've told you this story before. Fenrir, Loki's son, is a giant wolf. He grew to such gigantic proportion that the gods feared for their lives. They created a magical silk ribbon to bind his jaws, and they told the wolf that they wanted to put it on him as a test of his strength, to see how long it would take him to break free. Tyr was the only one brave enough-"

"Stupid enough," Loki corrected him with a scowl, blowing a perfect ring of smoke into my face. "He was always the fool."

"To fetter him," Niko continued, ignoring the interruption, "He put his hand in the wolf's jaws while the other gods bound him, as a measure of good faith. Naturally, when Fenrir could not break free, he bit off Tyr's hand."

"Which the Vigil has been kind enough to return to him," Goodfellow said bitterly, "The ignorant bastards."

"So, the other gods locked up your kid," I summarized flatly, staring at Loki, "I bet you resent the hell out of them for that."

Loki angrily extinguished his cigarette on the bedside table, leaving a charred ring. "The gods were afraid for their puny lives and tricked my son into the fetter. Of course I resent them. There is no honor in what they did," he snapped. He took a deep breath and calmed. "In any case, it is unlikely that we will be able to obtain assistance from Fenrir. If he was free, perhaps. But Odin has him under heavy guard. _I_ cannot free him. Believe me, I have tried. My son will be free at Ragnarok, and not a moment before."

"Yeah, well, we're trying to prevent that glorious day, so I'll pass. No help from the wolf kid. Any other brilliant ideas?"

"In written accounts of Ragnarok," Niko said thoughtfully, "In the prophesies...Garm is supposed to kill Tyr in the final battle. Would he help us?"

Loki snorted.

"What? Another kid?" I said, "Is this one a turtle? A cow? Perhaps a snail?"

Loki slammed me one handed against the wall. " _Perhaps_ ," he spat, enunciating every word as he held me in place, "You should hold your tongue, Auphling."

My ribs groaned under the pressure of his grip, and I grinned. Fun. So much goddamn fun. The bigshot was going to kill me, right? I might as well have a good time at his expense first. "Who's Garm?" I asked him innocently, feet still dangling a few inches off the carpet.

"He is a giant wolf, a hellhound, that stands guard at the Gnipa Cave, the entrance to Helheim."

I swallowed a groan. Helheim again? Seriously? Was I cursed with eternal bad luck? "Your daughter has a hellhound for a pet? Sounds promising. Is he big and bad enough of a wolf to blow Tyr's house down?" I teased, kicking my feet back against the wall lazily as I hung.

Loki gave my ribs one final grinding push and then let me fall back onto my feet. "Perhaps he could," he said disdainfully, wiping his hands on his pants, "But it would be impossible to get his help."

"Impossible is my specialty. Try me."

"Helheim is for the dead, Caliban," Goodfellow elaborated, looking extremely uncomfortable at the suggestion, "Traveling to that world while still breathing is suicidal. We cannot make that trip."

I ignored him and turned to Loki. "Your daughter was just here. So _she_ was able to make the trip. I'm assuming that means you are just as capable. Can't you just drop in on her, pretend it's her birthday or something? Get her a tiara. I'll bake the cake."

"Hel wants you dead. She is stubborn and fiery when she feels she has been slighted. She will not help you, even if I ask."

Ask? Who said anything about asking? I wished for a moment that I still had my bear trap teeth so that I could give him a proper smile. "What if we don't ask? What if we just go?" I opened my mouth to continue but paused when I felt something. It was similar to the feeling I used to get when an Auphe opened a gate nearby, but it was more than that. It wasn't the Auphe. It was...

A feeling of dread settled over me.

"He's here," Loki said, confirming my suspicions. He hesitated and raised an eyebrow at me, eyes filled with disbelief. "And he is _injured_."

"Yeah, that was me," I said, pushing the threadbare curtains back from the window. Tyr loomed in the parking lot. He glared at me through unblinking eyes that were already covered with black symbols. Lightning sparked around him in a whirlwind of sparks and fire, charring the pavement. Storm clouds gathered in the sky above.

 _Shit_. I had been hoping that he would stay away a bit longer to heal before he came after us again, give us some time to tape a makeshift plan together, but hey, no dice. Plans weren't really my thing anyway. Nik had always been a planner. I'd rather wing it any day.

I waved at Tyr through the glass and then flipped him off. He started to raise a hand, but before he could conjure up another noose I gated him away, part by part, to different locations. Hands to a bar in New York, legs to a junkyard in Ohio, face to the sun. I sent his dick and nose to the sewer. I wasn't quite sure how temporary dismemberment worked, but I hoped he could smell his own dick floating alongside logs of shit in a river of piss. Oh god, I _so_ hoped that was how it worked.

"Okay kiddies," I said, turning back to the others, "We have thirty seconds tops before he comes back, and man is he gonna be pissed off. So...plan?"

"What did you just _do_?" Loki demanded.

"Bought us valuable seconds that you're _wasting_. You promised to help us. Come up with something good," I chastised him. I glanced sideways at Cal. He was even paler than usual, staring blankly out the window where Tyr had been ripped away in several dozen gray gates. He had seen it. His hands were clenched into fists. Very, very slowly, he turned to look at me.

"Oh my god," he whispered hoarsely, "Holy shit."

"I am not sure how to kill him yet," Loki addressed me, either not noticing Cal's distress or not caring, "I will help, but I'm not dying for you. We should be sensible. Tyr's objective right now is to kill Cal, not destroy the world. If we give him what he wants, the rest of us will have a better chance of surviving long enough to stop him from starting Ragnarok."

Automatically, I snapped my arm out in front of Loki's face, forcing Niko to halt his katana in mid swing. The blade hovered threateningly, less than an inch away from my arm. "Calm down," I told Niko levelly.

Loki shook his head. "Stupid child," he sneered at Niko, "Are you really so selfish that you would save your brother over the rest of your puny species?"

He obviously didn't know Niko at all. If it came between saving his brother or everyone else, he would _always_ choose me. It was what _I_ would have done if our situations were reversed. Hell, wasn't that what I was doing _right now_ , wreaking havoc in the past, trying to rewrite the future so that I could get him back?

As Niko had said once before, we had serious codependency issues.

"Just a heads up, Niko gets a tad touchy when people suggest killing his brother," I told Loki coldly, pushing down Niko's katana with my hand. He let me do it, which was another sign that he trusted me. I turned back to the god. "If you don't think that you can kill Tyr, and the rest of us can't kill Tyr, then I say we go full out crazy and take a vacation to Helheim to ask Garm for help."

"No," Loki said simply, crossing his arms across his chest, "I might as well just kill you here where you stand for all the good that plan would do."

"Yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you?" I said. Before I could say anything else, my gut twisted again. _Oh no._ "Shit. He's-"

The window shattered inward. I shielded my face from the flying shards, and then pushed the others further into the room, away from the open air. As we stumbled toward the far side the second strike of lightning hit the outside wall. Chunks of plaster ricocheted inward as the wall cracked open and started to burn. A third strike enlarged the holes enough that I could see Tyr striding closer in a wall of electricity, his expression screaming that he was going to tear apart every one of us.

 _"I am the war!"_ he bellowed, and threw another lightning bolt. The ceiling started to collapse, raining dust and debris over our heads, "I am the war!"

"Loki," I snarled, "Take us to Helheim!"

"No," he repeated.

I almost punched him. Stupid fucking gods, and their fucking powers, and their fucking _stubbornness._ Furious, I ducked as another strike of lightning caught the beds on fire and sent a flare of heat through my bones. I caught Cal's eye. He was already watching me, mouth drawn into a tight line, anticipating my next move. He nodded, and then exhaled shakily and grabbed Niko's arm in a death grip and buried his face in his shoulder, as though to prepare as best he could for what I was about to do.

"What are you waiting for, Caliban?" Goodfellow shouted at me over the sound of the wall collapsing, "Do it now!"

I gated us out of the room.

We came out of the gate in the forest a few miles from Nevah's Landing. Cal doubled over, gasping for breath. "No, no, no...f _uck_ ," he whimpered, and gagged. His grip on Nik's arm was so tight it looked like he might snap the bone in half. I knew what he was remembering, what he was reliving. He had been through gates before. For him, they meant only one thing.

"It's okay," Niko assured him shakily, pale and battling not to throw up as he pulled Cal forward so that his head nestled under his chin, "You're okay. Not the Auphe, little brother. It's not the Auphe. I'm here. They're not taking you again."

Goodfellow looked up weakly from where he was lying on the grass. "How long?" he said hoarsely, and swallowed back nausea, "Till he shows up again?"

Loki was the only other person still on his feet beside me, and I fixed him with a death glare. "Yeah, Loki. How long till Tyr finds us again? How long, you bastard?"

"I am telling you," Loki said, "Helheim is a bad idea."

"Yeah, cause we're doing _fantastic_ right now," I shot back, gesturing at the others, "I'm a monster. Gating is what I do, okay? I'm used to it. They? They are not. What would you suggest I do, play hide and seek with Tyr until they all puke out their intestines and bleed through their eyes?"

"There has to be another option."

"Well I'd love to hear it!" I snapped. My gut twisted again and I spun around just in time to see Tyr appear a few meters away from us. The tree beside him began burning as the lightning raged around his body and twisted against the wood. I reached out and opened another gate inside Tyr's chest. He barely stumbled this time, but when he grinned his teeth ran with blood.

"You will be judged," he hissed.

I opened another gate inside him, and another. The freak just laughed and laughed.

Cal watched me, pale and shaking, and then buried his face against Nik again. "Oh god. Just do it," he told me, words running together, "Just do it, you asshole. Just do it..."

"Fuck," I hissed, and gated us again.

We appeared in an alley in New York. Luckily it was deserted, which had been what I was aiming for. The last thing I wanted was for some innocent kids to end up in the crossfire. I had enough blood on my hands already.

Robin lost his battle with nausea and threw up violently amidst a pile of moldy cardboard boxes. I squeezed his shoulder reassuringly before dropping to my haunches to check on the other two. Cal was curled up in a ball against Niko, dry heaving against his shirt.

"I've got you, Cal," Niko whispered, voice catching as he fought to keep himself from puking all over his brother. His right hand trembled as he rubbed it in circles across Cal's back, "I've got you."

I reached out and gently put a hand on Niko's forehead and tilted his head up so that I could get a look at him. A streak of blood trailed from one of his nostrils. The sight was infuriating. I was trying so goddamn hard to save them all, yet it was my gating that had done this. Me. It was my goddamn fault.

Screaming inwardly, I wiped at the blood with my thumb and mostly just managed to smear it. I rested my hand on his shoulder instead and focused on breathing evenly. I forced myself to stay calm for him. I owed him that much. "Just hang in there," I told him.

"What do we _do_?" Niko asked, reaching out a shaking hand to grab a fistful of my shirt, "How do we get out of this?"

I smiled at him. It was hands down the worst excuse for a smile _ever_ , but it was the best I could muster while he was looking at me like that. God, it made me fucking _hurt._ "I'll get us out. No one's gonna die, Cyrano. I promise."

I stood up, and his hand fell away from my shirt to wrap around Cal again. I turned and looked at Loki. The bastard was standing five feet away, watching us. Just _watching._ I made a gate around myself and came out of the swirling tear right in front of him. Before the gate even closed I slammed him back against the brick wall, satisfied when I heard his head thunk hollowly in the impact.

The god grunted in surprise. I didn't move back. "They cannot survive more gates," I snarled, inches from his face. I gave his expensive tailored suit a good shake and then leaned closer. "It's _killing_ them. You are a lazy, arrogant asshole, and your laziness is _forcing_ me to hurt them! You said that you were going to help us. You have done _nothing._ I swear, if they die because of you I will make every moment of your existence a living hell, you got that?"

Loki vanished from my grasp. I felt him reappear behind me, and I gated again when his fingers began to curl around my neck. I came out several feet in front of him, and we glared at each other. "I can keep this up all day, shithead," I said, "But we don't have _time_. You don't like the idea of going to Helheim. So what? You think _I_ want to go traipsing around in the land of the dead? We don't have a choice. I've tried to kill Tyr. You saw. I can hurt him, but he's too powerful for me to destroy him. We need Garm's help. We need _someone's_ help. So you better damn well figure out whose help we need. Either that or _you_ take a shot at Tyr next time he pops up. See how well that goes."

He glowered and straightened his rumpled suit jacket. "I cannot kill him, you filthy sack of bones. Obviously I would have done it already, and followed the act by flaying you alive. And I can hardly see how it is my fault that the other meat sacks cannot withstand your gating. They should know the risks that accompany hanging around with such a dangerous creature as yourself, an _Auphe,"_ his lips curled in contempt, "It does not pay for weak little sheep to pal around with monsters."

"Loki. Enough," Goodfellow said behind us, and coughed.

I turned and saw that he was using a trash can as a crutch to get to his feet. He swayed and looked pale as a corpse, but he still managed to fix Loki with a disgusted glare as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "I am surprised at you. I had previously believed that we were friends. I believed you to be _intelligent._ Tell me, how is it possible for me to be so wrong?"

Loki frowned. "Spending time with humans has made you unbearably soft, Puck. I bring chaos, not _friendship_. But I admit, honor is another creature entirely. I do owe you. Come with me. We will leave these imbeciles to their fate."

"Take us to Helheim, Loki," Robin said coldly, "Take us so that we can get the help we need. You cannot-"

My gut twisted sharply as Robin cut off in midsentence, and I knew we were in trouble before Niko even yelled my name. I turned in time to see Tyr lunging for Cal. Acting on instinct I built a gate around Tyr and dropped the god onto the sun, my new favorite place for everything I didn't like. I gated myself back to Niko's side, not a moment before Tyr appeared again and hurled a lightning bolt. I built a gate around the lightning, soaking it up in a purple bruise. God, it hurt. My head spun and pounded, angry at the mistreatment, but I was desperate.

I didn't care if my head exploded, I would do _anything_ to not have to drag the others through a third gate. Maybe the next gate would kill them. Maybe not. I damn well wasn't taking the chance.

Tyr reached out and tightened a noose around my neck as he hurled the next lightning bolt. I ignored the lack of oxygen and reached out, catching the bolt in yet another gate before it could reach Cal. He and Niko struggled to their feet behind me, and I motioned to them to stand as far back as possible. Spots started dancing in the corners of my vision. I heard Loki and Robin arguing furiously in the distance, but even that was starting to fade. My heart was pounding, though. I could still hear that. Like a jackhammer.

I gated back a few feet, hoping that Tyr's grip on my throat would release like last time. It did, and I managed to take about three glorious gulps of air before my throat closed again. "Loki. Helheim. _Now_ ," I choked out, catching yet another lightning bolt in a gate. And another. And _another._

I choked and tasted blood. Swallowed it back down. A thousand beady eyes gleamed at me through the darkness of the alley as the shadow weasels appeared at his side. Oh, come off it. This just wasn't turning out a good day for me.

A hand fisted the back of my shirt and heaved me up just when the lack of oxygen threatened to drag me to my knees. I saw the tip of a katana rise beside me. Nik. I snorted and felt a smile twist unbidden across my face. It seemed that my brother was a reckless protector at any age when it came to me. Even this screwed up monster version of me. I wasn't sure what he was planning on doing with that katana, seeing as he wouldn't be able to even reach the god with it, but I damn well appreciated having him watch my back again. I'd missed it.

Tyr sneered at us. The asshole knew that he was winning, and he was practically giddy about it. My vision was all but gone. The next lightning bolt he shot our way seemed to blur toward me in slow motion, but I still managed to trap it in a gate before we got fried. Good for me. Gold star for maximum effort.

My legs finally betrayed me and gave out, and I dropped like a stone. Niko tugged frantically at my arm and shouted something in my ear. Gibberish. That's what it was. _Goddamn it._ We were _not_ going to die here in this dingy alleyway. I caught one final bolt in a gate and turned my head toward Loki. I could barely make out his face swimming in a sea of black and yellow spots, but I gave him the fieriest glare I could muster.

He held my gaze for a moment, then rolled his eyes. He nodded and lazily put his sunglasses back on before snapping his fingers.

The world shifted. One moment I was lying on cracked pavement, and in the next my cheek was pressed against jagged and uneven rocks. I choked in a long unhindered breath. The air was dry and hot, and smelled strongly of sulfur. It was _wonderful._ I breathed in again, and coughed when my lungs still didn't want to work properly.

Niko's hand rested gently on the back of my neck.

"Still alive, are you?" Loki drawled, breaking the silence. He hesitated for a moment, then added, "I must admit, you are admirably protective of your friends...for a worthless Auphe. Shame Tyr couldn't have just finished you off, though."

His voice was like nails in my ears. I lifted a hand off the ground and flipped him off, then wedged the same arm underneath me to push myself up. With Nik's help I managed to sit and stay upright, swaying gently. My head pounded, and I blinked hard to clear my vision. Robin and Cal were sitting beside Loki, both shaken but alive. Cal had his legs pulled up to his chest, hands clenched tightly enough that his nails were probably drawing blood. His face was paper white. He stared bleakly at me through his hair. I was pretty sure I'd never seen my own eyes look that hopeless before, but I didn't blame him. If I'd known that _this_ was my future when I was his age, I probably wouldn't have wanted to get up in the morning either. It was enough to drive anyone mad.

It took me a moment longer to notice that Niko was also staring at me, his lips pressed into a tight line. Oh. Right. I wiped a hand across my face to clear off the torrent of blood that still poured out of my eyes, nose, and mouth. It didn't do any good.

I flicked his wrist. "Quit staring like that. I'm fine. I've got lots of blood to spare," I said, only slightly lying. As I rested my arm back in my lap, my eyes fell on the Kyntalash, and then...

Crap. That couldn't be a good sign. I rotated my arm so that I could get a better look at it. My veins were dark blue and bulging, and there were deep cuts and welts in my skin branching away from the device. None of that had been there before.

I caught Niko watching and tried to hide the offending appendage behind my back, but it was too late. He'd seen it too. His hand snapped up and grabbed my arm faster than I could move it out of his reach, and he traced the damaged skin as though to determine what had happened and how to fix it. As we watched, more blood welled up out of the cuts and smeared under his fingers. His expression darkened exponentially. "Cal..." he said softly.

"I'm _fine_ ," I said again, with emphasis, "Really." From the look on his face, he wasn't remotely convinced. I wished that I still had my jacket to cover up the arm, but I'd lost it hours ago back at Goodfellow's apartment. Oh well. At least this way I could watch as the device slowly killed me. That'd be fun.

I pulled my arm out of Niko's grasp and looked up at Loki, "We're in Helheim, right?"

He shrugged, and gestured at the desolate landscape. "It's what you blithering fools asked for. Repeatedly."

"Perfect."

 **Please review!**


	7. Helheim

**Hey everyone! So in this chapter the characters journey to Helheim, which is actually one of the nine worlds in Norse mythology. I did my research and tried to keep the journey and landscape similar to the descriptions I found. This chapter is _even longer_ than the last one, so find somewhere comfy and enjoy as I continue to put the guys in perilous situations. **

So...Helheim. Check that destination off the bucket list. I wasn't sure what I had expected. Lots of fire, naturally. A red dude with a pitchfork. Possibly a cheerful doormat welcoming us all to our eternal damnation. _Something._

It was an ordinary cave. Sandstone walls arched over our heads, shrouding us with darkness broken only by the sunlight that trickled at our backs. There were no souls screaming in eternal agony. No brimstone, whatever that was. The place smelled like absolute shit, yeah, like the mother of all garbage heaps had taken a dump in a sewer, but aside from the stench the place seemed pretty standard. I almost expected Yogi bear to come skipping over with his picnic basket.

I tilted my head at Loki and raised an eyebrow. "Not that I don't trust you completely, us being best friends forever and all that, seriously, we should get matching necklaces, but are you sure you're not full of shit? This isn't exactly how I pictured the world of the dead."

Loki pulled out his cigarette case and tossed it from one hand to the other. "You are a craven, ill-bred barnacle. Try _thinking_ once in a while with that moldy melon of yours. Taking you directly into Helheim would have earned us swarms of unwanted attention, from both my daughter and the dead. The world of the dead lies beneath the Earth, and this cave is one of a handful possible links to the entrance. We will sneak in and attempt to remain incognito so that you can complete your nauseatingly vile quest to talk to the wolf. Fifty bucks says he swallows you whole and regurgitates your entrails."

"Loki. How often must I remind you to play nice?" Robin chided, shaking his head in exasperation. He gathered his feet under him and stood unsteadily. "Is Tyr at all likely to follow us here?"

"No," Loki said confidently. He tipped a cigarette from the case and lit it. "Unlike you village idiots, his intelligence is high enough for him to recognize a horrendous idea when it's breathing down his neck. When you all get murdered and imprisoned down here, do not even consider that it was my fault."

"Yeah, yeah," I said, using the wall to pull myself up, "We get it, Captain Obvious. Shut your trap already." My body throbbed like I had been smashed by a tractor-trailer going ninety down the turnpike, and that didn't even hold a candle to how my head felt. Anyone got a couple bottles of Vicodin for me to swallow? Anyone?

I reached down and offered my good arm, the one the Kyntalash wasn't destroying from the inside out, to Niko. He blinked at it for a moment like he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do, then blinked harder to clear the cobwebs and gripped my hand. I pulled him slowly to his feet. "You okay?" I asked.

He nodded. "Yes," He said, and he was. He'd been attacked by a god, been gated all over the place, and still come out of the ordeal looking like he'd just woken from a nap. That was all Niko.

He stepped over to Cal, who hadn't moved, and crouched beside him. "Hey little brother," he said softly, laying a hand on his shoulder.

Cal didn't even look at him. "Hey," he whispered back. He unclenched his hand, releasing a few drops of blood, and then clenched it tight again. "Nik?"

"Right here. I'm here, like always," Niko reassured him, placing a few fingers under Cal's chin and tilting his head up so that he was forced to meet his eyes. "We're going to get through this. Everything's going to be okay."

Cal snorted in disbelief. Then he loosed a dark laugh, full of dread. "We are so _fucked_ ," he countered, brushing black hair back from his eyes. He released his breath in a heavy sigh, made eye contact with me for a moment, and seemed to reach a decision. "Help me up, Nik."

Loki started making his way down the path. "Hurry up, blood sacks," he called over his shoulder, "Rest when we are back safe in your world. The longer we delay, the more chance there is of dismemberment, possession, death, and emotional scarring."

"You mean even more emotionally scarring than your face? Christ, kill me now," I called after him, satisfied when his shoulders tensed.

Loki set a relatively quick pace. Once I was satisfied that the others were able to keep up, I matched his stride so that I was practically stepping on his heels as we walked. It wasn't ideal to have the god of chaos and mischief lead you anywhere. The smug bastard boasted an impressive resume of screwing over a mismatch of gods, giants, humans, and who knew what else. Seeing as he hated our little group, me especially, I had a looming suspicion that he would betray us eventually.

He was more than welcome to try. I'd be ready.

I wasn't able to keep track of how long we trudged through that cave, but it had to have been at least three or four hours. It sucked. Every single step jarred my head until I was convinced it might just topple from my shoulders. At least the bleeding had stopped after the first hour.

As we descended deeper underground the air cooled and the walls changed. They began a sandy colored limestone near the surface, then transitioned to a rugged brown. Toward the end of our trek the walls were black and seemed to eerily absorb the inadequate light of Robin's flashlight. Stones jutted out from the sides of the cave, so jagged and sharp that they sliced like knives through our clothes if we brushed against them. As the ceiling and walls narrowed we were forced to walk sideways in order to avoid getting cut with every step. A thick mist accompanied the black walls, obscuring everything below our knees in a swirling white cloud.

I could hear something in the distance, like the clang of metal on metal. The ominous symphony had been audible for the past half hour or so, irritating my headache even further, but no one had pointed it out yet. Loki didn't seem to be in a sharing mood, and the others probably just didn't want to know what the hell it was. _I_ certainly wasn't going to mention it.

"We are getting close," Loki announced, breaking our long silence, "Prepare yourselves. We will need to cross the river in order to reach the main gate."

"A river?" I asked, intentionally treading on his heel. I smiled as he swore and dodged his retaliating kick. "Do we get to ride in a canoe? Or is it a mandala?" I leaned in closer, "I've always secretly wanted to ride in a mandala."

"There is a _bridge_. If we are lucky, you will topple from it and meet a slow and agonizing death."

"You're so sweet, you know that?" I said, turning sideways again as the tunnel narrowed sharply, "If the whole god thing doesn't work out for you, you could always get a gig writing those sappy poems in birthday cards."

His elbow sliced out and caught me across the face. I grinned and licked the blood off my lip. Retaliation? Nah. It was fun enough just messing with him. I got the feeling that he wasn't used to anyone being flippantly disrespectful to his face.

After a few more minutes the passage ended abruptly, leaving us standing in front of a door.

It was made of wood, and was curved near the top. Dark vines twisted around the frame and trailed down to encircle a single tarnished doorknob. That much was easy enough to identify. Other than that...

The mere sight of the door was enough to send shivers through my body. It was as bad as staring at the Kyntalash. Not only that, something was _wrong_ about the color. The entire door was deep red and shiny, and looked wet in our flashlight beams. I reached out a hand and placed two fingers against the door. They sunk to my knuckles in the wood, as though it wasn't entirely solid.

"Holy shit..." Cal groaned. "Are you _kidding_ me? What the hell?"

I grunted and tried to pry my hand free. It was difficult, almost as though it was suctioned to the surface, and when I finally yanked myself free my fingers were covered with blood.

" _Skata_ ," Robin swore, taking a step back. As we watched, blood bubbled up through the holes I had made and filled them back in, making the door whole again.

"That can't be sanitary," I said lightly, tearing my eyes away. I wiped the blood off on my jeans, "Health code violations all over the place."

"Henceforth, I would be grateful if you would follow a strict _do not touch_ policy," Loki told me, shoving me roughly back against Niko, "I'd thought it obvious being as we are traveling to Helheim, but I forgot who I was talking to."

"Wet paint sign would've be nice," I told Niko, shrugging. He swatted the back of my head.

A lump rose in my throat, and I swallowed it down quickly. It had been a lighter hit than usual, probably mindful of my head injuries, but it was _normal_. It was _Nik._ I usually received at least ten hard smacks from my brother in a single day. I deserved them. Sometimes. At least half, anyway. But ever since the explosion...ever since he'd left me behind...

I'd missed him doing that. So damn much.

"Careful. I've already got a head injury," I told him when I could breathe again.

"Please. Any brain cells worth protecting have long since departed from your thick skull."

Loki scowled and swung the door open impatiently. The clanging noise intensified so loudly that bile rose in my throat. I clamped my hands over my ears. "Son of a bitch," I hissed, struggling to endure the equivalent of fifty smoke alarms blaring right in my ear. "What the hell _is_ that?"

Loki rolled his eyes and stepped through the frame into a gigantic, brightly lit cavern. "The river," he said testily, as though he was completely fed up with my stupidity, " _Obviously_."

As the rest of us followed, Niko grabbed Cal and me by the back of our shirts and pulled us both closer so that he could be heard over the racket. "Written accounts say that it is a river of _weapons_."

" _Seriously?"_ Cal snapped back, hands pressed tightly over his ears as he walked. "Shit. Why the hell would something like that even exist? Who put it there?"

"The gods, I imagine."

"Well they're assholes. I'm gonna be deaf for _weeks_ after this."

I grimaced. At least that was something we could both agree on.

We continued forward into the cavern, which was mind bogglingly enormous. If it had a ceiling, it was too high up for me to see. The space was lit by swirls of bright light that drifted in patches through the mist. It was creepy shit. Loki chose his path so that he deliberately didn't have to walk through any, and I followed his example. We were in Helheim, after all. Anything down here was bound to be bad fucking news. Maybe the lights were some sort of god forged technology. Maybe they were discontented floating spirits. Or maybe it was magic.

Hell, I knew the 'M' word was taboo for Goodfellow, but that didn't mean I couldn't seriously consider it as an option. I mean, floating balls of light? Might as well blame magic.

It wasn't long before we reached the river. I instantly wished we hadn't.

Niko had been right, as usual. The river was a mass of clashing steel. Knives and swords swirled in the torrent, their blades gleaming black and silver in the cavern's eerie light.

The bridge above stood in stark contrast to what flowed beneath. Wooden and old, it was narrow enough that we would need to cross in single file, and long enough that the other side was obscured by the fog. There weren't any handrails.

"Goddamn it," Cal hissed.

"We must cross," Loki said. Waves of metal crashed beneath us, splashing up knives like ocean waves splashed water. The knives ricocheted off the bridge, sometimes sticking in the wood for a few seconds before dropping back into the torrent.

"You have _got_ to be kidding me," I shouted to be heard, "We have to cross _that_? Why don't I just stab myself a dozen times right here and get it over with? Niko, give me your katana."

"We either cross this or you can go back and have more fun with Tyr," Loki said, grinning unpleasantly, "Your choice."

Robin frowned. "This repugnant piece of driftwood is less likely to provide us with safe passage than Napoleon chanced to keep his soldiers alive during the Russian winter. No living creature was ever meant to pass through here. Caliban...would it be at all possible for you to gate us across the chasm?" he asked reluctantly, "I feel we would all fare better in your hands than..." he trailed off and gestured to the river.

Well fuck me sideways. Goodfellow, the gold-medal champion in keeping his horny ass alive, actually saw the bridge as a big enough risk to prefer _gating._ No one ever preferred gating.

We were in way over our heads. Worse, even. We were travelling through a macabre world of the gods, and I was in charge. Me, the half human screw up. Shit. I should _never_ be put in charge. It was practically the golden rule.

Loki laughed. "Gate? _Here?_ My daughter would discover our whereabouts in a heartbeat. She would rip Caliban's heart right out of his chest and toss it still beating in the river. By all means, gate if you must. I will enjoy the spoils of that mistake."

"No one's ripping anyone's heart out. Stop watching so many Indiana Jones movies," I dismissed him.

I leaned closer to Robin so that he could hear me clearly over the damn river, "Heart ripping aside, because, _whatever,_ I can deal with that...I can't gate you across because I can't see the other side and I've never been there before. That's how it works. But even if I _could_ magically see through all that goddamn fog, the answer would still be no. I'm not gating anyone yet. You're still pale from the last set of gates. Me killing you when I came back to stop just that? Yeah. That'd be a great fucking laugh. No thanks."

I flicked my hand at Loki, motioning him to get on the bridge. "You first, Short Round."

Loki smirked. He took a few tentative steps onto the structure, relaxing when it held. "Feel free to take a refreshing dip, Auphling," he threw back over his shoulder as he continued on.

I took up the rear this time. If the others encountered any trouble or lost their balance, I wanted to be able to help. The 'how' of that plan was sorely lacking, but hey. I was flexible. I'd figure it out on the fly. There was a river of blades beneath us. If anyone fell...well, there was no living through that.

The bridge swayed gently as I took one cautious step after another, arms held wide for balance as my ears throbbed from the high decibel of noise. If I lived, I was absolutely investing in some quality ear plugs. Thinking back, I should have purchased some years ago. They would have come in handy against Robin's constant ramblings about orgies and feathery sex with Ishiah.

I teetered as the bridge's rocking intensified. A lurching pit grew in my stomach as I flailed my arms to balance. Usually I would have been able to right myself, but my head was still pounding and my equilibrium was off. It wasn't _working_.

Niko grabbed my shoulder without so much as a backward glance, grounding me as best he could. I let out a shaky breath. "Nice catch," I said lightly. My heart continued to pound.

"Stop trying to _think_ ," he chided, giving my shoulder a restrained shake before letting go, "Concentrate on not dying."

"Don't die. Right. Got it," I said. The wood groaned as I took another step. It held, for now. "You know," I shouted ahead, "These rickety wooden bridges _always_ collapse in the movies."

"I believe I just told you to _stop_ thinking _._ And no more television."

"What?" Cal fumed, ahead of us, "Are you serious? _I_ didn't almost fall off the goddamn bridge!"

" _Buddha_ ," Niko groaned, "Two brothers? What horrid sins have I committed to deserve this? Concentrate, both of you."

A flash of silver whizzed up and darted through the slight gap between Niko and I. Another knife skidded across the bridge behind me. The hilt knocked against my boot before it plunged back down into the fray. We had made it far enough to reach the side of the bridge obscured by fog. It twisted around us so thickly that I could barely see where it was safe to step. A blade whipped up and over the bridge, this time successfully slicing across the front of my knee. I felt the warm wash of blood trickle down my lower leg as the pain blossomed. _Shit._ I took another step, satisfied when everything moved properly. The cut wasn't deep.

Peering forward into the fog, I could just make out a strip of land. We were close. We were going to be okay.

I continued thinking that up until Robin grunted in pain and toppled sideways.

Cal, who was behind him, reached out and snagged his wrist to try to halt his descent, succeeding only in throwing himself off balance as well. As he fell, Niko dropped gracefully to his knees and grabbed his brother around the waist as I simultaneously wrapped my arms tightly around Niko's shoulders to keep the others' weight from sending him over as well.

We hung there, a string of monkeys out of the barrel.

Goodfellow swung at the end of the line, both hands clasped around Cal's. A dagger was buried up to the hilt in his side, right under his ribs.

"Plan B," Cal shouted up at us, "It's time for goddamn Plan B!"

I felt Niko slipping from my hold. There was no way I could hold all of them for much longer, much less pull them up.

"Gate," Niko yelled, tilting his head toward me. His arms strained to keep their hold on Cal, who slipped an inch, and then another. "Caliban, you need to gate! It's been hours since the last one. We'll be alright. I promise."

Still I hesitated. It didn't make sense. I knew there wasn't another way out of this fiasco, but...

"Cal. Gate!"

 _Okay, Nik. Okay, but you all better damn well survive it._

I ripped open the tear in reality and let myself fall sideways off the bridge. We tumbled through the portal, landing in a heap on the other side of the structure. Safe. Loki stood a few feet from us. He had finished crossing the bridge during our struggle and was watching, a cigarette in one hand. The bastard. I didn't have time for him right now. Later.

I rolled off Niko and came to rest on my back in the dirt. The slice against my knee continued to bleed. "Robin? You good?"

 _"Good?"_ he said incredulously, and coughed. He wasn't throwing up this time, which was good. Puking while you were impaled wasn't going to do you any favors. "I've been run through like Caesar. I'm finished."

I highly doubted that. "Wasn't he stabbed twenty-three times?" I countered. I climbed slowly to my feet and made my way to his side. There wasn't much blood pooling around the hilt yet. I couldn't judge the size of the blade, but I hoped it was small. He would need stitches either way, and I didn't have the supplies. Not in Helheim. I'd have to leave the knife alone, at least for now, to prevent him from bleeding out before we got back.

"I apologize," Goodfellow said dryly, "Would you like me to return to that ghastly pit of steel and roll around in it for awhile until I reach your quota?"

"One measly blade isn't going to take you out," I said firmly, squeezing his shoulder. I had no idea how bad he was hurting, but I had to be sure, _"Is it?"_

He sighed. "Of course not," he snapped over the racket the river made behind us, "Do you have any idea who you're talking to? Caesar was _weak._ It would take at least fifty blades to take me out."

I believed him. "Good. Now try not to bleed. You're bleeding too much."

"Please. You're one to talk, kid. You look like a pincushion had sex with a tomato."

I ruffled his hair.

"Do not _ever_ -"

I stood before he could retaliate, planning to check on the others and then give Loki a violent piece of my mind, but she hit me first.

The jolt slammed me backwards and back over the edge of the ravine. I plummeted down, toward the raging torrent of knives. Right before I plunged into the mess I gated, appearing back on solid ground in a halo of silver.

"I did _warn_ you," Loki drawled, smiling. Amused. The idiot was enjoying himself.

Hel stood over the others, wrapped in the stench of old death. I tensed. As an unknown variable, she was _way_ too close to Niko, Robin, and Cal. Niko's hand curled around the hilt of his sword, preparing for the worst. He had blood dripping from his nose again, worse than last time.

No more. _No more._

"What do you want?" I snapped at Hel, gating closer so that we were only a foot apart. Her face twisted in disgust as she studied the world around me. I knew she could see the damage I was leaving behind in reality with each gate. Good. Let her see it, let her be pissed. _Look at me. Me. Not them_.

"You have come here willingly. To me."

"Sorry, but no. We're here on an errand, actua-"

Her hand of bone snapped out and snagged around my throat. Ice flowed through my veins, swallowing up any hint of life, of warmth. "Mine," she hissed, symbols flooding across her eyes.

 _Cold. It was so damn cold._

"Stop it!" Niko snarled beneath me. I could hear the faint squish and scrape as Niko's blade passed through rotten flesh and thudded against bone. A gun went off once, twice. Hel didn't even flinch.

"Humans and their silly toys," Loki drawled, laughing, "Always entertaining. Earthly weapons cannot kill her, you moronic simpletons. She's the god of the dead."

"Fuck you," Cal hissed, and fired his gun again, "Whose side are you on anyway, asshole?"

I coughed, feeling more and more like an empty shell. I tried to gate away, but I couldn't think straight, couldn't even raise my arms from my sides.

"Sweetheart," Loki interrupted, "Before you finish sucking life from the Auphe boy, I'd like a word with you."

Her eyes glowed brighter, but she turned slightly toward him. "You brought the abomination here. For me. I knew you would."

"Yes, yes, a present indeed. But first...a word?"

She hesitated. The world around me dimmed to black, and I tried to hold onto the last pinpoint of life. I couldn't die now, not when the others were trapped in Helheim. I couldn't let everyone down. Not again.

Hel released me. I slumped bonelessly to the ground, gasping for air. Niko ran a hand over my neck and spine to make sure I was still in one piece and then turned me over once he was satisfied. "Are you okay?" he demanded. I could see his sword was streaked lightly with gore. Protective. Always so damn protective.

I gave him a shaky thumbs up and then let my arm drop back to my side. I'd live. I'd lived through far worse.

"You always have to one-up me, huh kid?" Goodfellow said wryly.

I rested my head back against the ground and worked on breathing for a moment. Good. This was comfortable...

"Get back," Niko said coldly, "Or I will run this through your remaining eye."

My eyes snapped back open. _Fuck._ Had I drifted off? I didn't even remember closing my eyes. Every part of my body felt heavy, almost like it didn't belong to me anymore. I was so fucking tired. The others were still talking, yelling, and I struggled to pull myself back to awareness. What _now_? What else could possibly have gone wrong _now?_

Hel had returned. She stood a mere meter away, and her half rotted face dripped into a sickening smile when she saw that I was awake. "Mine," she whispered again, longingly.

Niko was leaning over me protectively, his sword raised in warning. "He absolutely isn't yours. Do not come any closer," he said darkly.

I winced as the smell of her breath practically slapped me in the face. It cut through the wooziness faster than a shot of adrenaline. "Should really...wear a paper bag or...probably give Freddy Krueger...nightmares," I ground out, "My regrets to...your husband...you bitch."

Her good eye focused on my again, amused, but I found myself drawn with sick fascination to her empty socket. A heavy darkness seemed to swirl behind the bone, creating a sensation far creepier than being watched by a thousand eyes. She blew a mocking kiss in my direction and turned back to Niko.

"Wretched lost boy," she purred, toying with him, "Do you really mean to protect Caliban with that _stick?_ Maybe now you claim him as yours. But soon, very soon, he will no longer be your brother. He will be mine. _All_ of his lives will be mine."

I swore internally, squeezing my eyes shut. I could guess what Loki had told her, that he had brought up our deal. He was going to kill me anyway, so Hel might as well get a two-for-one bargain out of it and wait to collect until after we'd killed Tyr. She'd have me then. Always. I doubted very highly that I'd ever get reincarnated again after this life. You don't get your way if you piss off the god of the dead. That meant Niko was going to be alone in any future lives he lived. He was going to have to do it without me.

Of course, in his next life he wouldn't even know I was missing.

He wouldn't remember me at all.

 _God._

He absolutely _could not_ find out about the deal.

"Great. Can't wait. Just quit...breathing...on me," I said spitefully.

She disappeared in a swirl of black tendrils that faded like a cheap magic trick. I let my head drop back against the dirt.

Niko let out his breath in a whoosh and lowered his katana so that the hilt rested heavily against my arm. He tilted his head at Loki, calm. Deadly. "Explain. _Now_."

"She's my daughter. Do you really imagine I have no influence over her?" Loki lied smoothly, "As long as we are quick in our task down here and cause her realm no harm, she has agreed to leave Caliban alone. Temporarily."

"That's bullshit and you know it," Cal snarled, aiming his gun at the god, "What did you really say to her? Why did she leave?"

"Put your puny toy away before you shoot an eye out, infant," Loki chided him smugly. "As to what I said? Give it time. A few years, perhaps ten or so. You'll figure it out all on your own. Of that I have no doubt."

Robin snatched his wrist and squeezed. "Loki. You do _not_ want me as your enemy. Remember that. Do not think that I will not put you in your place if I discover you have played us," he let go, leaving a red welt on the god's skin.

Loki's lip curled. "Noted. Are we done here? We should keep-"

"No. We are not done," Niko said angrily, vaulting to his feet, "What did she mean by ' _soon_?' Answer that, and if you don't mind, withhold your watery lies from hereon out. You're extremely disappointing at lying. Worse than any backstabbing politician."

Always aware, my brother. Always watching, always weary of a trap. But this...

I had given Loki only one stipulation surrounding the deal. I knew how much the shithead liked to gloat and parade his own victories around, so I gave him one rule: He wasn't allowed to mention the deal to the others, _especially_ Niko. Tell Niko, I had said, and I'll fire my machine gun up your ass so many times that you'll be shitting through holes in your stomach for days.

"How should I know what she meant?" Loki returned, eyes flashing in amusement, "I daresay she will try to kill Caliban again later, like the Vigil. And Tyr. It appears to be open season for your dear brother; everyone is trying to kill him these days. It's only a matter of time before _someone_ ," he paused, and winked at me, "Succeeds."

"Yeah? That's great," Cal interrupted, placing a hand firmly against Niko's chest before he could fly off the handle, "Fantastic. Can't wait to see who wins the dead pool. Now can we go find the goddamn wolf and politely ask it for help? The way things are going, it's probably going to eat us, so I'd rather get that over with if it's all right with you assholes. Besides, the Puck is bleeding everywhere."

" _Please._ This is nothing," Robin scoffed, "You should have seen me after the First Messenian War, or after the Sack of Rome at the very least. Reserve judgement."

I climbed slowly to my feet, feeling like I'd aged about thirty years. My muscles screamed at me, bones ached, wounds bled. Whatever. As long as I had could gate, I was still a weapon. The whole physical body could take a backseat to that. I wouldn't need it much longer, anyway. I helped Robin up and offered him my shoulder as a crutch, but he pushed me away gently, assuring me that he was fine. Yeah, right. We were all a big barrel of fine.

The remaining trek to the main gate was a shorter one, probably three miles, laughable when compared to Niko's workout regimen. It was the biggest break we'd caught all day. We needed it, because we were all in pretty bad shape. If we had to find our way back in a hurry, all we needed to do was follow the trail of blood.

Not that I was setting foot on that bridge again. Fuck that. I'd rather stay down here and chill with the wolf.

We made it to the last mile before Robin noticeably stumbled. I reached out to assist him but Niko swatted my arm away. "Just concentrate on walking. I've got him," he said, looking me over, "You don't look any better than he does. The last thing I need is you two idiots stumbling headfirst into a wall."

"Fine," I said, throwing my hands up, "Robin _does_ prefer blonds. Don't come crying to me when he leaves hickeys all over your neck. Oh, and Nik? He's seen your dick in the future, at least once. There's photographic evidence. You two have fun."

Niko swore at me. Smirking, I stepped back and set a new slower pace farther behind them, keeping an eye out for anything else that might try to kill us. I was surprised when Cal fell in step beside me.

"I figured it out," Cal breathed, so quietly that _I_ could barely hear.

I didn't look at him. I knew what he meant. "Okay," I said. I'd known this conversation was coming, sooner or later. I had been a smart kid. Lazy, but smart, and suspicious as hell to boot, and Junior had been weary of me since I showed up in the bar. It had been only a matter of time. Still, he'd figured out my arrangement with Loki far sooner than expected. I was almost proud.

"Nik doesn't know," he added, voice darkening.

"No. He doesn't," I said, resting my hands in my pockets as we walked, "What are you going to do?"

He scowled. "I'm not sure...yet. I'm not sure how I feel about it. Or you," he said honestly. He pushed his hair out of his face and finally met my eyes, gray on gray, "You're going to die. Does that mean _I'm_ going to die?"

"I'm not sure," I told him truthfully, "I don't know exactly how this will play out. But...if Nik makes it..."

Cal sighed heavily. "If Nik makes it," he agreed. He lengthened his stride and reset his pace so that he was just ahead of me. "We're not done talking about this," he promised me.

The others had come to a halt ahead of us. Loki had a hand up in front, a signal for us to freeze and shut the hell up. I complied, halting right behind Niko. His neck was tragically unmarred. He caught me looking and elbowed me sharply in the ribs.

I grinned, and it was almost a real smile. "Photographic evidence," I reminded him, the whisper barely audible. He elbowed me again.

Loki growled a warning deep in his throat. "Stop. Playing. Around," he ground out, eyes flashing at us over his shoulder. He jabbed a finger ahead.

The gate towered in front of us. It was about twenty yards away and too dark for me to see properly, but I could discern enough to recognize it as a massive and wicked structure. The metal twisted around itself, breaking off and coming to points every few feet up the gate. It was ninety-nine percent deadly and one percent ornate. Not welcoming. Not something you wanted outside your flower garden.

A black mass slouched in front of the gate.

Tilting my head, I concentrated and took a long whiff. My nose was mostly down for the count at this point; it was hard to pick out a smell when you were constantly bombarded with the odors of smoke, sulfur, and blood. Helheim was _rough_ on the senses. Yet underneath them all lurked a new, equally unwelcome smell. Wet dog.

 _Found you, Fido._

I could hear the wolf breathing. Each breath cut through our silence, even and deep like a growl. During our earlier walk through the cave, Niko had informed me that living travelers did not often pass through Garm's gate. They took different paths to avoid the feared guardian.

They were smart.

We were desperate.

As if reading my mind, Garm's eyes opened wide and focused. They glowed blood red in the dark, each nearly the size of my head. The wolf pushed itself up on its front paws, and as he stood he grew, and grew, and grew...

He _loomed_. A black mass of bulging muscle and fur, he stood at least twelve feet tall on all fours. His jaws opened like a steel trap, dripping saliva that hissed like acid where it dropped to the ground.

Then he growled deep in his throat, and the cavern floor shook.

"Fuck," Cal said.

I thoroughly agreed.

 **Please review!**


	8. The Guardian

Garm's growl pulsed through us like an eerie and demented entity. The floor trembled in its' wake, sending the pebbles at our feet into a macabre waltz. Suddenly I was a child again, tiny and insignificant. _Helpless._ I wanted to crawl underneath a bed and hide.

"Do not let the beast burrow inside your head," Loki said calmly. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, scowling. "He is nothing but a wolf."

Nothing but a wolf? Was the egotistical bigot kidding himself? "I know wolves, trickster," I muttered, eyeing up the creature at the gate, "I've fought wolves, befriended wolves, and been betrayed by wolves. I've even _dated_ a wolf, okay? Trust me, if she had looked anything like that, my dick would have shriveled up and died before I could have even _considered_ sex. That thing is not just a wolf."

"He is one of the first. His bloodline is pure, untainted by human filth."

"He's All Wolf?" I inquired. The stabbing fear in my gut receded to include a hint of intrigue. This beast in front of us was what Delilah had struggled for years to find. All wolf, all the time. Up to now, the closest she had ever come to finding an elusive All Wolf had been Catcher. But now? Her obsession suddenly made a lot more sense.

The wolf took a warning step in our direction. His red eyes narrowed to slits, and he huffed out a breath through his nostrils that blew hair back from my face.

"That's fascinating, assholes," Cal snapped, "Can we please focus on not becoming dog chow?"

Loki snorted. "The werewolf is chained."

I peered into the dark. If I concentrated, I could almost make out a twinge of rusted metal wrapped snugly against Garm's knotted black fur. "Well that's encouraging."

"His chain was forged lengthy enough to enable him to chase down trespassers as far back as the bridge."

"Not encouraging. Next time, lead with that."

Garm took another step toward us and growled again, sending the floor into another shaking frenzy. A few stalactites fell from the ceiling to shatter on the ground. Goodfellow stumbled slightly against me. "What exactly is the plan here, kid?" he demanded.

I reached out and steadied him, frowning when my hand came away slicked with blood. "Plan? Um...the _idea_ here was that we talk to Garm. Ask him for help."

"You do not _talk_ to Garm!" he hissed at me, " _Look_ at him, Caliban! He is not _reasonable._ "

"Maybe you should have mentioned how fucking terrifying and massive he was before we got here," I said defensively, eyeing the wolf wearily in case he charged. "I was under the impression that he was a wolf. A _normal_ wolf."

"He guards Helheim. Of course he's not going to be a gamou normal wolf, you gamou idiot!"

"Oh, shut your trap Mr. Perfect. Fine, I screwed up! Loki, you're a god. _You_ talk to Garm."

"Absolutely not. Your logic is as foul and vexatious as your personality," Loki rebuked me, brushing errant particles of dust off his suit jacket, "Garm is unlikely to find me appealing, as it was the gods that chained him. They have kept him imprisoned against his will for thousands of years. If anything, my presence in this chamber is only making matters more dire."

Garm threw back his head and howled. The high pitched cry carried at such a frequency that it knocked us to our knees in the dirt. I glared at Loki, who was still somehow on his feet. "What now? Should I gate Garm somewhere?" I demanded, ears ringing.

He laughed. "If you let this creature off his leash he will terrorize all manner of worlds. Just sit there, Auphling. You think your horrid gates are special?" he inquired, and scoffed mockingly, "That's child's play. Have you ever tried shapeshifting?"

Garm chose that moment to attack. He launched his body dozens of feet in the air and sliced through the distance between us with ease. He descended upon us, claws gleaming like a dozen hungry swords.

Loki changed. In the time it took to blink, the arrogant, suit clad man transformed into a gigantic wolf. He leapt to meet Garm. The beasts collided in midair and plummeted back to the ground in a snarling whirlwind of teeth and claws. The two appeared identical, right down to their murderous red eyes.

Cal and Niko staggered to their feet and moved away from the fray. I followed their example, dragging a bleeding Robin along as I retreated. Loki's shapeshifting might have bought us some time, but I wasn't sure how long the distraction would last.

"Okay. Right. New plan. Niko?" Garm's chain sliced between us, and I leapt sideways to avoid being caught up in the bind.

"What?" Niko threw back. Garm and Loki howled in unison, sending more stalactites careening to the ground around us. Niko grabbed Cal around the shoulder protectively, and shoved him down as though to make him a smaller target for the falling debris. Another rock smashed down to our left, and then again in front of us.

"You're the one that's obsessed with all this god mumbo jumbo bullshit. What do we do?"

"Mumbo jumbo bullshit?" His eyes narrowed. "I know you did not just say that. When we live through this your daily morning runs will be so extensive you won't be able to feel your legs."

"Again, Cyrano, stop punishing me for his shit," Cal snapped, shrugging off Niko's arm.

Garm lunged at Loki and snagged his neck with crushing jaws. He twisted roughly to the side to break the god's neck, but Loki raked his claws under Garm's stomach until he was released. They sprung apart and circled each other.

"We need to figure out what Garm wants," Niko said. He turned to Robin, who was still clutching my shoulder for support. "You might know. Does the wolf desire anything?"

Robin jerked back as a large rock fell so close that it threw grit and sand into our faces. "Skata. I suppose he wants to _eat us_ , since we are intruders. That is his purpose."

Garm leapt over us again. The long chain dragged against my arm for a moment, leaving a bloody scrape behind. "Shit," I hissed, clutching the limb to my chest. I looked up just in time to see another stalactite plunging toward us, and created a gate right above our heads. The rock plunged through the hole, and I let it close. "This whole place is gonna fall on us soon," I said grimly. I turned to speak to Robin but instead caught a glimpse of Cal's expression and paused. "What is it?" I asked him.

Cal jabbed a finger at Garm. "Can you sever his chain?"

Robin blinked, startled. "That idea's even worse than an impact activated parachute. Have your brains drained from your ears?"

"That thing has been locked up in here for who knows how many years. His purpose is to guard the gate. Does he _want_ to guard the gate? Has anyone ever given him a choice?" Cal spoke, determined and sure.

I hesitated. His suggestion made more sense than I'd expected. If I'd been locked up at Nevah's landing instead of Grimm for all those years, I'd have wanted to be free too. More than anything.

Once freed, however? What would I have done? Killed everything in sight? Launched into a frenzied chase for insatiable revenge like Grimm?

Or...something else?

I'd like to give myself the benefit of the doubt. Maybe this wolf deserved the same. "I think I can break the chain."

Robin sputtered. "Are you both utterly _deranged?_ "

"Probably. I blame Niko's head slaps," Cal said.

I smirked. "Head trauma at its finest," I agreed, then turned back to the fight. Loki was bleeding from a multitude of wounds. He spun on his back legs and managed to land a deep slash across Garm's back. A tuft of fur went flying, and the werewolf retaliated with a deep bite to Loki's front leg. Garm was obviously the better fighter. It was only a matter of time before he finished off his opponent and came for the rest of us.

Time for a little faith. I located the chain and locked in on a spot far from Garm's throat. If the wolf made any sudden moves, I didn't want to puncture anything and send him into a rage. I built the tiniest gate, swallowing two links of tarnished metal in the portal before I snapped it shut. The two loose ends fell broken to the ground.

Garm froze in mid-step, his paw inches from Loki's throat. Loki took advantage of the hesitation and redirected, landing a deep scratch of his own on Garm's flank. The werewolf huffed, unfazed, and didn't move to fight back. Instead, he lowered his paw and turned his shaggy face toward the broken chain. His eyes blazed. Slowly, very, very slowly, he turned to face us.

Loki growled and moved to strike again.

"Loki, stop!" I shouted, raising a hand. He paused, shoulders heaving as he breathed. He tilted his head incredulously, and I could almost hear the insults he was silently spewing in my direction. "Just wait a second, okay?"

Garm crept toward us. Blood dripped from his thick fur, splattering against the ground as he moved. The length of chain still attached to his neck drug along the ground with a nefarious metallic clink.

"We are all going to die," Robin moaned, dropping his head in his hands.

I moved to step in front of the others, but Niko grabbed my shoulder. I looked back at him. "It's alright, Nik. Let go."

Niko's expression tightened with unease. "Do not get yourself eaten," he ordered.

"Don't worry. The Auphe smell and taste like shit. I'll be fine."

"You are _not_ the Auphe," he said solemnly, and slapped the back of my head. Hard.

I smirked at Cal. He rolled his eyes and nodded. "Head trauma," he mouthed at me.

"Delusional," I mouthed back, pointing at Niko.

Garm halted in front of me, so close that I was swallowed by his shadow. I craned my neck to look at him, and stopped trying so hard when I realized all I could see were his jaws and eyes. Not the most charming sight. He huffed, swirling my senses with the putrid scent of dog breath, and then leaned his head down even closer.

Too close. _Way_ too close. He nudged me with his wet nose, nearly knocking me off my feet. I stood my ground, unsure of what he wanted. He nudged me _again_ , sending me stumbling back a foot or two. "What? What is it?" I asked him, feeling ridiculous. I looked over at Loki, who still remained in wolf form. "Would you mind translating, shithead? Or are you just going to cower way over there?"

Garm growled in my face, turning his neck again so that my head was buried in fur. A piece of metal ground against my forehead. _Oh._

"Um..." I muttered, tilting my head back slightly so that I could breathe, "Yeah. Hang on, I'll get it." I reached out and grabbed at the chain. As my fingers slid around the rusty links, I felt blood and heavy scabbing under the metal from where it had dug into his flesh. I winced. "That's gotta suck, man," I said aloud. "Hold still."

I pulled the chain as far away from his skin as I could and then built another tiny gate. The swirl of gray disappeared, taking with it a few more links of chain and a lot of ragged fur. He rose up on his back legs and tossed his head, flinging the chain a hundred yards away into the dirt. I gaped and took an involuntary step back. Holy shit, he was massive. Then he howled, long and deep, and a multitude of rocks careened to the floor around us.

"Caliban!" Robin prompted desperately, hands over his ears. More debris ricocheted off the wolf's shoulder and shattered beside me. He didn't even notice the impact.

I reached out and tugged on Garm's fur. He continued howling, oblivious, so I tugged again, harder. He quieted and peered down at me, still standing on two legs. Damn, I felt like I was two feet tall. Another stalactite smashed on the other side of the room, and then everything went silent. I crossed my arms. "That's enough," I told him sternly, feeling more and more like an insect, "No more howling or growling for right now. I get that you're excited, but just try to-"

He dropped back on all fours with a heavy thud and lowered his eyes until they were level with mine.

"Behave...until we're...somewhere safer," I finished hoarsely. _Fuck._ I was so dead. I wondered briefly what it would feel like to be eaten by a gigantic wolf. Would he chew? Or would he just swallow me whole and leave me alive to digest for a week or two?

His head dropped, and he nuzzled me.

Garm, the guard dog of the underworld, several hundred pounds of bulging muscle and flesh ripping fangs, actually _nuzzled me._

I grunted as the contact almost sent me falling backwards, but I adjusted my footing and managed to remain on my feet. He opened his jaws and before I could move he licked his tongue up the entire length of my arm. His tongue was soaking wet and sandpapery, and I flinched as it passed over the cut I'd received minutes earlier from the heavy swinging chain. The cut burned vividly, and I glanced down in time to see the skin knit back together. Shocked, I ran my hand over the length of my arm, flicking old blood from unbroken skin.

"That's a cool trick," I told him, impressed. Apparently his ancient, All Wolf DNA held more powerful perks than just constant form. He nuzzled me again, and I awkwardly scratched behind an ear that was bigger than my head. He didn't bite my hand off, so I supposed that was okay. The experience was heavily surreal. "So...listen. The reason we came to Helheim was to ask for your help. Since you're free now-"

"Hel will _not_ be pleased," Loki hissed, back in human form.

"Hel is a massive bitch-a-whoreus, and she can shove it," I replied dismissively, "Garm, Tyr's completely lost his shit. He's drunk with power, he's killed people, and we think he might try to end the world. If you'd rather just walk away from that, it's fine. You can go wreak havoc on some fire hydrants. But we haven't been making much progress against him, and we could really use someone of your caliber on our side."

Garm huffed in my hair and then nuzzled once more against my neck. I'd take that as a yes. "Also...Robin got himself stabbed by Hel's stupid river and he's bleeding," I said nonchalantly, "I don't suppose you could help with that too?"

The wolf's ears perked up, and he focused on Goodfellow.

"Oh no," Robin admonished, backing up, "No, no, no. Absolutely not."

"Don't be stubborn. You look like a shish kabob," I said, and nearly toppled over as Garm licked my face. I coughed, wiped a hand across my mouth. "Werewolf saliva's got healing properties-"

"He can keep his healing properties to himself, thank you. I'll just stick to reliable stitches and blood transfusions; they've kept me alive for centuries."

The werewolf gave my neck one final lick and lumbered over to him. Robin groaned and shut his eyes. "Zeus preserve me. Alright, just be-ouch!" he opened his eyes and glared at Cal, who had pulled the dagger cleanly from his side.

"Kinda hard to heal around a blade," Cal told him wryly, holding the knife up. He hesitated, then added, "But...sorry, I guess."

"Kid, you better believe you are going to be sorry-" he began, then stopped as Garm began licking his side. "Skata! Be gentle, would you?"

I uncrossed my arms, relieved as the look of pain on Goodfellow's face faded after the first few licks. "You're fine, Loman. Just pretend this is another one of your orgies and go with it. The kinky factor is right up your alley."

"You just goddamn _wait,_ Caliban. You will regret this," Robin ground out, and tensely gave the creature a light shove, "I am not...a piece...of _candy_ , you flea-ridden sack of fur!"

I snorted. Turning, I clapped Niko on the shoulder. "See? Told you I'd be fine."

Niko stared mutely at me, mouth slightly ajar, a strange glint in his eye.

"When _exactly_ did you become the animal whisperer?" Loki asked sourly, appearing at my other side.

The god's suit was as sharp and unrumpled as ever. It bothered me, so I reached over and wiped my bloody hands off on his coat. "Just now. Oddly enough, dogs usually try to eat me," I said, grinning as he scowled and stepped away. I pointed at Cal. "But cutting the chain wasn't my idea. It was his."

"Whatever does it matter? He _is_ you."

Cal and I shrugged.

"Before I forget," I said seriously, tapping my fingers against my arm, "I just want to get one thing straight. If you can shapeshift into a fucking huge, badass wolf, why have I only heard about that one _other_ story, you know, where you chose to turn yourself into a pony? And then...well. I'm sure you remember what happened next."

Silence.

I'd hit another of his pressure points dead on target. Symbols began scrawling their way across Loki's face and eyes. Goddamn, this was probably one of the best forms of stress relief available. "I just figured I'd mention it. I remember reading about that in one of Nik's books. That _you_ , Loki, the God of Chaos and Mischief, got himself pregnant. Was there a baby shower?"

Loki's arm sliced toward me as fluidly as a snake. I built a gate around the limb and closed it, severing his arm at the elbow. He struck again, securing me in a headlock with the other arm, and he squeezed my neck like a tube of toothpaste.

Garm growled.

Loki hesitated as the ground shook, then sighed as he found himself face to face with an angry wolf.

"You should probably let me go," I choked out, "But seriously, dude. You have issues."

"Just finish suffocating him," Goodfellow encouraged, now free of the creature's ministrations. He twisted his torso back and forth, testing the healed flesh and muscle.

Loki paused, seriously contemplating the act, before he shoved me away.

I smiled and massaged feeling back into my throat. Loki's arm was already whole and fully functional again. He had skills, I'd give him that.

Goodfellow stepped forward around the wolf. He swiped a hand over his side, unsuccessfully trying to remove some of the werewolf saliva. It clung to his skin in gooey strands. "Are you both quite finished playing?" he demanded, eyeing me with distaste as he wiped his hand on his pants.

"For now," I said. I could tell from his expression that Robin was going to give me hell for getting him covered in dog drool. Forget that I had quite possibly saved his life. "You missed a spot," I said innocently, gesturing to his side.

The Puck's expression darkened. "Now that certain matters have been...settled," he said through clenched teeth, "Perhaps we should formulate an expedient course of action. Loki, once we leave Helheim, Tyr will attack again, yes?"

"That is his pattern. Alternately, it would be a better idea to seek _him_ out first and gain the upper hand. If I take you to another world, perhaps Asgard, we would have ample time to plan a detailed assault. Odin is likely to be sympathetic toward our cause."

I listened to his explanation. It made sense. Everything continued making sense until Tyr appeared and snatched Cal from the back of the group.

Cal loosed an outraged yell, but Tyr silenced him by holding a blade to his throat. "Do not move. Do not breathe. Do. Not," Tyr snarled at us, lips curled back in a triumphant sneer. His blade pressed deeper against Cal's neck. He flinched and tried to jerk back, but the sharp steel punctured his skin. Several drops of blood dripped from the puncture and soaked into his shirt. Niko hissed and watched helplessly, sword drawn.

"You goddamn asshole," Cal spat, furious, but stilled under the knife.

My hands balled into fists at my sides. Tyr's steel was pressed too precariously against Cal's throat for me to do anything. If I even attempted a gate, Cal stood just as great a chance of getting his throat slit as being freed. The war god seemed to read my thoughts, and he nodded smugly at me. "This is how it ends, you fools. You _heathens._ With my glorious judgement."

Garm growled warningly and crouched to spring. I put a hand on his fur, stopping him. I knew the wolf would not be fast enough either. There had to be another solution, one that I was missing.

Tyr took a step back, dragging Cal with him. "You think I fear Helheim? _Me?_ I fear nothing. Not even your new pet."

"You are...such a...noisy douchebag," Cal growled. Tyr pressed the blade harder against his skin, and he winced as more blood fell, "Ah, _fuck!"_

Niko was shaking now, either from anger or fear. "Cal?"

Cal breathed shallowly against the pain and caught his brother's eye. He gave him a weak smile. "It's okay, Nik. It's okay."

"You are all next," Tyr promised. He disappeared, taking his hostage with him.

I stared at the empty spot, rage burning inside my gut. The bastard had outsmarted us, tricked us at our own game. "Son of a _bitch_ ," I hissed.

"What do we do?" Niko demanded, whirling to face me. His face was paper white. All traces of the calm he usually wore in a crisis were absent, replaced by naked terror. He grabbed my wrist and squeezed. "Goddamn it Cal, what do we goddamn _do?"_

"Loki, can you trace where they went?" I demanded, knowing every moment counted at this point. How long did it take to cut someone's throat? Not even a full second.

"The boy is quite possibly already dead. It would be unwise to follow-"

"He's not already dead because _I'm still here_ , jackass!" I interrupted, roughly snatching a fistful of his suit. I resisted the urge to slug his arrogant face, "Can you track them?"

He paused slightly. "No," he finally admitted, eyes dropping in what might have passed for shame. "Tyr is blocking me."

I released him with a groan and swept a hand over my face.

"Then...what? That's it? Is there nothing we can do?" Goodfellow questioned incredulously. "There must be _something_."

"It would take hours to pinpoint Tyr's location," Loki said, "Possibly at least a full day."

Too long. Too goddamn _long._ Cal would be dead long before that. _I_ would be dead, would have never even existed. Poof, gone. Everything I'd done, all the things Niko and I had fought so hard to achieve over the past ten years, none of that would happen. What was worse, Niko was watching. My big brother looked younger than I ever remembered, and he was trusting me to make everything better. Instead of that, I was just going to disappear. Right in front of him.

It wasn't fucking _fair._

Niko's grip tightened painfully against my wrist, as though he meant to keep me existing by will alone. I shook my head. "Nik...I'm so sorry."

 _"Shut up,"_ he hissed, furious, "Shut up. Don't you dare do this to me."

"You think I _want_ to? Christ, Nik. If there was _anything_ I could do-" I cut off as I felt it. A gate. A silver tear gouged across the space behind us, spilling chilling light into the cavern.

Robin's brow furrowed. "Caliban, why did you..."

"That's not mine," I said warningly, taking a step back. I knew the Auphe were still alive and thriving at this point in the timeline. Did we really have bad enough luck that the monsters would also track us to Helheim?

Cal tumbled out of the gate and onto the ground, and the tear flickered closed behind him.

I stared, shocked. Niko crossed the distance to his side in a flash. His hand clasped Cal's shoulder as though to assure he was real, and then drifted to inspect the wound on his neck. "Cal? Are you alright?"

"I...I think so, yeah," Cal said, dazed but alive. He exhaled shakily as Niko pressed a piece of cloth to the cut. "I'm...back?"

"You're back," I repeated, disbelief already fading. I strode forward and stood over him. "I thought I told you no gating, asshole."

"Since when do I ever listen, dickhead?"

"Good point. Never change, that attitude is going to keep you alive a long time," I told him. I rounded on Loki, mind already redirecting from 'oh shit, I'm gonna die' to formulating a bare bones plan. "You said something about going to Asgard for help. We should go now, before-"

Tyr appeared in a blaze of fire. Lightning whirled around his body. To say he was a bit pissed would have been the understatement of the year.

"Before _that,_ " I finished, hurriedly moving to put myself between Tyr and the others.

"Abomination!" Tyr screeched, flames rising higher, "Foul, wretched filth!" He flung out a hand and Cal gagged behind me as his throat closed. I created several gates inside Tyr's heart, but the god was too maddened and focused to even flinch. I stood still and waited as he lunged, fists raised, lightning whirling.

Garm pounced first.

The wolf snapped its huge jaws around his arm and dragged him down to the dirt. Blood splattered against my face in the close proximity. They liquid sizzled in the lightning's heat.

Tyr shrieked incomprehensibly and struggled against the wolf, throwing bolts of lightning against his foe. Garm's fur blazed as it caught fire, but he didn't seem to care. He growled and closed his jaws tighter around the limb until bone cracked. Tyr yanked his arm free. At least, that's what _would_ have happened if the limb had still been attached. His stump of an arm gushed blood around a shard of bone that jutted from his tattered sleeve. Tyr howled in fury and threw the wolf at least a hundred feet. Garm's body tumbled through the air like a rag doll, smacking the metal gate with a dull thud.

Before the god could target anyone else, I built more gates inside of his chest. One after the next, as fast as I could think them into existence. He stumbled this time, the blood gushing from his nose mirroring mine as I fought to stay conscious.

"Get us out of here, you dick!" Cal yelled. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him climb to his feet, one hand wrapped in Niko's shirt. "Loki, for fuck's sake! He's gonna _die!"_

Wait. Who was going to die?

Tyr stole the breath from my lungs, but he couldn't stop my gates. Ten more explosions in his heart. Twelve. Fifteen. My head was on fire; so much pressure, so much goddamn _pain._ Tyr fell back a step.

"Caliban, stop!" Robin shouted, "You have to stop!"

It hit me then. Cal had been talking about me. Shit. I hadn't thought it was that bad. Shrugging internally, I tried to create another gate and...nothing. I had nothing left.

Tyr laughed maniacally and lunged, but Loki appeared like a shield in front of me. "Tyr!" he boomed, throwing his arms wide, "Look at yourself. A pathetic mewing kitten."

Tyr snarled and replied, but I couldn't hear anymore. I fell to my knees, unsure which way was up. Huh. Maybe I _was_ worse off than I had thought.

"If you wish to find us, we will be in Asgard. With Odin, the _true_ God of War," Loki's voice cut through the haze. My eyes slid shut, voices blurring to a faint whisper as I lost consciousness.

 **Please review!**


	9. Asgard

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My first conscious thought was that the air was different. Cooler, more pleasant. It smelled like cotton, tilled earth, and weapon polish, and cleansed my nose of all remnants of the smoke, blood, and sweat that permeated Helheim. Relieved, I took another breath, deeper, and noticed that another smell lingered over everything else: dog breath.

My nose wrinkled in disgust, and I burrowed my face deeper against pillowy soft fabric. I moved my right arm slowly to cradle the back of my head as memories came spilling back. I'd been...hurt. Badly. I'd pushed myself too far, recklessly given too much. By all logic, I should be dead. This didn't feel like death, though. I felt healthier and more awake than I had in days.

I rolled my head and blearily peered through lowered lashes. All I could see were teeth. Giant pillars of bone, capable of crushing my skull in a heartbeat, rested against the pillow beside me. A huge pink tongue lolled out of the jaws.

"Hey Lassie," I said roughly. I cleared my throat and pushed my arms underneath me to sit up. Garm went nuts. He excitedly jerked his head up and sat back, watching me with interest through his red eyes. His tail flicked back and forth, and something shattered on the floor with the clatter of glass or china behind him. I reached out a hand and placed it on his nose. "Settle down, you big lug. I'm fine," I said, and was rewarded with more shattered glass. Goddamn he was ginormous.

I leaned back, glancing at the silver headboard behind me with now accustomed confusion. A circular skylight allowed light to spill into the room. The space was large and luxuriously furnished with wooden dressers, elaborate tapestries, and shelf after shelf of books. A plush couch stood to the left of the bed in front of a marble fireplace. Sparks occasionally jumped from the logs and landed harmlessly on the stone floor. I dimly remembered Loki mentioning Asgard before I passed out. Turns out I was becoming an avid traveler, of both space and time. Shit, I'd rather take several hours of restful television any day. At least the television was stationary and the couch didn't try to kill you.

Garm leaned over and affectionately licked my face. Ugh, drool. I reached up and swiped the mess away from my eyes. "Thanks for healing me," I said, guessing what had happened.

He dipped his head in response and then growled softly. I followed his gaze to the Kyntalash, and winced. My arm looked much worse than it had hours ago in the cave. The shallow cuts branching from the device had deepened and widened into gashes, and they ran the length of my arm nearly to my shoulder. I gently ran a finger over one of the larger gashes, disgusted when it nearly sank up to the bone in the wound. Garm growled again, and licked at the cuts. From his obvious frustration, I could tell he'd been doing that for awhile while I'd been unconscious. The wounds stayed, impervious to his administrations. "It's alright," I said, gently pushing him back, "You've done enough, trust me. I feel great. There's nothing you can do about this damn technology. It's screwing with me, that's all."

He gave my arm one last defiant swipe of his tongue and then sat back. He coughed once, twice, then gagged. Opening his mouth, he dropped a slimy, putrid object onto the blankets covering my legs.

I stared at the present, repulsed as my brain did a familiar somersault. "Is that..." I trailed off, reaching forward to rest a fingertip hesitantly against the black and red twist of metal in my lap. I reached through the goo and pulled a finger from in-between the metal loops. "This is Tyr's Kyntalash," I said. I discarded the putrid finger on the stone floor and clenched a shaking hand around the device. I looked away from it before my brain turned to scrambled eggs. "Garm, you bit off his arm," I said, smiling as I remembered. I reached over and ruffled his fur, excitement building. "You bit _this_ off his arm. He can't time travel, and we have his Kyntalash. We have _two._ "

His lips drew back into something that, while absolutely terrifying, might also pass for a smile.

"Where are the others?"

Garm stood and padded out of the room, keeping his head and back slouched so that he didn't scrape against the ceiling. As soon as we entered the torch-lit hallway, it was glaringly obvious where I needed to go. All I had to do was follow the sound of yelling. Concern blossomed when I recognized the voices as belonging to Cal and Niko. I could tell that much easily, though their speech was so quick and distorted with emotion that I couldn't make out any words. I moved briskly across the wooden floor and squeezed past Garm at the last second so that I could enter first.

The shouting cut off as I opened the door and stepped inside the room. It was a huge library, filled with multiple floors of bookcases. Each level was connected with spiraling silver staircases. Cal and Niko stood less than a foot apart in front of a massive shelf of ancient scrolls, both rigid with anger. Cal glanced at me as I entered, and I was surprised when he actually gave me a tiny smile. Niko didn't even spare me a glance; his bloodshot eyes pierced through Cal with unbridled fury. His hands were clenched at his sides, shaking so badly that it looked as though he might actually _hit_ Cal.

Fuck. What had I missed?

"Oh good, you haven't died," Robin said dryly, looking more relieved than his voice betrayed. He stepped past the brothers and crossed to me, checking me over wordlessly. Once satisfied, he crossed his arms and glared at Garm, who had squeezed his head and shoulders halfway across the threshold. "Not that we would have known if you had passed through the veil, Caliban, as your new pet _refused_ to let anyone near you. Nearly bit Thor's leg off when he tried to carry your sorry ass to get medical attention."

My eyebrows rose as I was momentarily distracted from the yelling. "Thor? He's here? _Helping?_ Not passed out drunk on a balcony or something?"

Cal snorted. "Hardly. Robin's got a deranged view of 'helping.' The asshole was wasted, didn't have a goddamn clue who he was, or who _you_ were. He kept calling you Sif and crying about your hair. I'm pretty sure he was trying to carry your unconscious ass to his bedroom for some sexy time, and if your wolf hadn't gone ballistic on the weirdo...well, who knows what you would have woken up to. You dodged a bullet there."

My face had frozen into a pale grimace. "Robin?" I said tensely.

He shrugged, smirking. "You're never any fun, kid. Never fear, Thor is sobering up, and you'll be pleased to hear that you spent no time in his chambers. Although you two _would_ make an adorable couple, and the sex would be-"

 _"Robin!"_

"And Loki is speaking with Odin on our behalf. Hopefully he will agree to assist us against Tyr," Robin finished smugly. He stepped closer and jabbed a finger against my chest and lowered his voice to a whisper. "I'm glad you're alive, Patroclus, but if you _ever_ pull a stunt like that again, if you _ever_ get me covered in wolf drool again, I will hook you up with Thor and you two _will_ have a romantic and intimate evening together. I swear. Do not test me."

My mouth went dry. "You were bleeding to death, you ungrateful moron. That saved your _life_ ," I protested incredulously, swatting away his finger. I reached back and gave Garm's neck a quick, grateful squeeze before returning my attention to the Puck. "Fine. Next time bleed until you keel over. On that train of thought, why would you let Loki talk to Odin for us? The dick _hates_ us."

"Odin is the All-Father of the gods. He sees everything and knows everything," Robin said dismissively, "He would never be fooled by Loki's pathetic trickery. We will be safe in that respect."

"I'll believe that when I see it," I said grimly, and then turned away from him before he could respond. I faced Cal and Niko, who currently had me more worried than anything else at the moment, and that was saying something. "Now. You two. Let's put all that other shit on the back burner for now, because, _seriously._ What the _fuck?"_ I finished, gesturing between them, "You _never_ fight like this. Trust me, I know."

"Nik's being stubborn," Cal told me calmly.

Niko snatched a fistful of Cal's shirt. "I am _not_. You are being a goddamn idiot _,"_ he snapped, face even paler than before as he shook his brother, hard, "Now stop it."

"Look. We all saw what went down in that cavern," Cal said levelly, reaching up to gently grasp Niko's wrists, "Caliban pounded the _fuck_ out of Tyr, to the point where the god was bleeding through every hole in his goddamn face, and the wolf bit off his arm like it was made of cardboard. And the guy's _still alive."_

"We will kill him next time. With Odin's help."

"You can't honestly believe that! Every other god has tried to kill us so far. Why should this time be any different? Besides, Tyr is probably down on Earth killing people _right now_ , while we're hiding. When will he stop? Once everyone's dead? Once the world ends? Shit, Cyrano. We can't just let people die-"

"We can. _I_ can. I just... _fuck_. We will figure it out, little brother. Together. Not..." he trailed off and shook Cal again, desperately, "Not like _that_."

"Like what?" I demanded, though I had a growing suspicion.

Cal confirmed it. "If we kill me, right now, with a quick shot to the head, Tyr's gone. Poof, sayonara. Right? He only exists because of me, because the Vigil sent him back to kill me. If I'm gone...everybody wins. Everybody _lives."_

"Stop. Stop it," Niko hissed. He finally looked in my direction and made desperate eye contact with me. "You...you agree with me, right? Cal's just...he's not...we can beat Tyr. _We can beat Tyr_ ," his voice broke and he fell silent, staring pleadingly for reassurance.

I swallowed hard. Holy hell, I should have stayed the fuck in bed.

"Okay," I said slowly, raising my hands, "Okay. Let's just all breathe, alright? Let's calm down and talk about this."

Niko shook his head, discouraged by the contradiction looming in my eyes. He lowered his head to butt it against Cal's chest. Cal circled his arms around his brother and held on. He glanced at me, and I...

I agreed with him. Cal was right. I had previously entertained the idea, that if Cal died Tyr would cease existing. The Vigil would never have created Tyr if it hadn't been for me. Without him there would be no Ragnarok, not for years and years.

But Niko. Shit. He would _never_ see it that way.

"No one needs to die right now," I said gently, trying to diffuse the situation.

"You agree with him," Niko moaned into Cal's shirt, "Goddamn it, how can you agree with him?"

I stepped over and gently rested a hand on Niko's back. "Listen... _obviously_ we aren't putting a bullet in Cal's head. Not now."

" _Never_ _._ "

"But if we have to, if we've tried everything else..." I trailed off and met Cal's gaze. He nodded in agreement. "I know you don't want to hear it, Cyrano, but...that's kinda the last resort."

He was silent for a long time. Finally, he sighed deeply and pushed back slightly from Cal. Ever so slightly. "Last resort," he agreed reluctantly, his bloodshot eyes narrowing as his voice hardened to steel, "The _very_ last, you bastard. Understand?"

"Yeah, Nik," Cal said softly, "I more than understand. You know I wouldn't...I'd _never_ leave you alone like that unless I had to."

"Oh, for the love of Athena. _Skata_. It will never come to that, you idiots. Now would you all please be silent?" Robin broke in sternly, rubbing a hand over his face, "All this emotion is giving me a migraine. You're all worse than the soap opera my maid watches in the afternoons, woefully lacking the erotically heaving bosoms. Enough. Can we all go kill something? I really need to kill something."

I smiled. "Not just yet. But I have something that might tide you over until the next massacre," I said, and held up the second Kyntalash so that they could see it clearly. "Turns out I have at least a tiny speck of good news: As of now, Tyr is trapped in the present."

Niko turned his head and stared at the device. "Is that...?"

"Yeah. Garm snatched it from the bastard when he bit off his arm," I confirmed, drawing it back out of sight behind my back before it could give anyone a headache, "So we're a step ahead of him. Might be a baby step, but still. It's something, right?"

If Niko thought it was good news, his expression didn't show it. Instead, his face grew distinctly paler. Wordlessly, he reached over and tugged at my arm, pulling it back into view. Blood dripped thickly to the floor.

"When exactly did your arm become mincemeat?" Robin breathed, leaning forward to get a closer look.

"It's fine," I lied quickly.

Cal winced and turned away. "There's something really fucked up about your definition of fine."

"Perhaps if we are fortuitous you will perish soon, Aupheling," Loki said flatly, appearing beside us. His lip curled in appreciation as he caught sight of the second Kyntalash in my grip, "Humans do not make sufficient batteries for ancient technology. When you meddle in the affairs of higher beings, you perish like the dirt crusted worms you are. Thus ends the toilsome and brief lifespan of mortals."

Garm growled, lifting his head up from where he had been resting on the floor. He eyed Loki with distaste.

He wasn't the only one. Niko straightened instantly, all signs of weakness disappearing from his face like they had never existed. His fingers traced the hilt of his sword. "Loki," he warned darkly, "That is _enough_."

The god leaned forward gleefully on the balls of his feet. "Odin wants to see you, Caliban," he told me, gesturing toward the door, " _Only_ you."

"Absolutely not," Niko said distrustfully, holding out an arm to stop me. He tilted his head at Loki. "Why?"

"Why?" Loki drawled, and smiled wider, "Oh, I don't know. Perhaps because Caliban is a time travelling, half-Auphe _monster_ that knows the future. Maybe that. It's certainly not because of his pleasing personality."

"It's okay, Nik. I'll be careful," I assured him.

"This isn't a matter of you being careful, which you are _not._ Ever. The point stands that every god we meet _has_ tried to kill you," Niko said, repeating Cal's earlier words, "You're not going to meet any new ones without backup."

His objection didn't surprise me one bit.

"It is erroneously disrespectful to disobey a direct order from the All-Father. If anyone other than Caliban meets with him now, he is likely to strike him down," Loki said smugly.

"I'll go," Cal said.

That _did_ surprise me. And apparently everyone else, from the immediate sounds of protest.

"Odin wants to see Caliban alone? Fine. The asshole can see _two_ of us. Alone," Cal said, and crossed his arms stubbornly.

Practical. Always practical. And, even better, it kept Nik out of harms way. My lip curled in appreciation. "Works for me."

"That does _not_ work," Niko objected, frustrated, "What is _wrong_ with you two today? I found it disturbing when you were constantly at each others throats, but this sudden agreeability, in addition to being highly uncharacteristic, especially of _you,_ Cal, is even worse. What am _I_ to do, exactly? Wait here for guards to cart your bodies back?"

"Robin, is Odin likely to kill us?" Cal asked.

Goodfellow shrugged. "He _is_ more powerful than Caliban. The possibility of your demise is there, but highly unlikely. Odin tends to be more rational than most gods."

"There, see?" Cal told his brother, "Highly unlikely."

"Why could I not have been born an only child?" Niko groaned, rubbing a hand across his face. He looked back up, glaring at both of us. "Fine. Go socialize with the new god. Get yourself gutted for all I care."

"No one's getting gutted," I assured him, bumping his shoulder with mine. "We'll be careful."

"You keep saying that. Now prove to me that you understand the meaning of the word."

Loki stepped cautiously around Garm and exited the room. "Hasten, worm food. Odin does not welcome being delayed."

I gave Nik the most reassuring grin I could muster and left the room. Cal and I followed Loki down the torch-lit hallway, passing countless marble busts and weapons secured to the walls. The gleam of metal flashed silver in the firelight. After a few minutes we stopped before a resplendent silver door.

Loki placed a hand respectfully on the engraved metal, then turned to us. "Listen to me," he said somberly, actually looking _sincere,_ "Odin is the father of all gods and the slain. He sits on his throne, Hlidskjalf, and watches and governs the entire world. All knowledge comes directly from his mouth. If we are to have a chance at killing Tyr, we desperately need Odin's assistance. Do _not_ screw this up!"

I patted him on the shoulder. "Don't worry. Junior and I've got this."

His expression twisted into something unreadable. He pushed the door open and gestured us to move through the gap. "I will remain here and await your return," he said, and pulled it closed.

The throne room was brightly lit. Circular skylights and windows spewed light from all angles, illuminating a magnificent space that shone mostly of silver. I walked forward toward the center of the room, where a wide staircase led up to a gleaming silver throne.

As I climbed the steps, I studied the man on the throne. He wore a cloak of midnight blue and sat tall and straight. A broad brimmed hat crowned his head and a long gray beard flowed into his lap. His right hand clutched a spear. Two enormous ravens perched on his shoulders, watching us approach, and two wolves rested lazily at his feet. He tilted his head as though listening to one of the ravens, and then gently smoothed its feathers as he continued to watch me with his one good eye.

I reached the top of the staircase and stood with Cal's shoulder nearly touching mine. "So...you're Odin," I said, still looking at the god, "Basically the one eyed version of Gandalf, huh?"

The wolf closest to my feet raised a paw and covered its eyes. Cal stared at me from the corner of his eye. I was glad Nik hadn't come. He probably would have killed me and saved Tyr the trouble.

Odin's face, which up until now had been expressionless, split into a smile. "Knowing Tolkien, that is a mighty fine compliment," he said, sitting back comfortably on his throne. He gestured for us to come closer.

It seemed I'd passed some sort of test, though I had no idea what it entailed. I raised an eyebrow as I walked forward. "You knew Tolkien?"

"I know everybody, my dear boy. Including you. Including the _two_ of you, it seems. Although," he said thoughtfully, "If you keep wearing that Kyntalash, there will soon be only one. It will liquefy your bones."

"Ice in the veins and poison in the blood," a voice said from Odin's shoulder.

The god turned his head and again ran his fingers across the raven that sat on his right shoulder. "None of that," he chided softly, then turned to me. "You must ignore Muninn. He is out of sorts due to spending all morning cooped up in this chamber. Huginn is more content to rest and contemplate," he finished, tilting his head toward the second raven.

"Murderous children," Muninn cawed, dipping his head low. His black eyes shone like coal in the sunlight. "Kill for you. Kill for _us_."

I looked at Cal and shrugged. Talking ravens...strangely not that weird in the grand scheme of things. "Charming bird you've got there. Listen, Odin...not to be disrespectful at all, but-"

"I know why you came here," he interrupted me, raising a wrinkled hand.

"Really?" I asked. He nodded, and I breathed out in a whoosh. "Good. That'll save us time. I wasn't sure where to even _start_ explaining this mess."

"You needn't explain; my ravens have already passed on all information. The Vigil made a mistake, Tyr has lost his mind and his dignity, and the world hangs in perilous danger. I understand all of that," Odin continued, laying his spear across his lap.

"Such flaws. Crippling flaws. You will fail, traveler," Muninn spoke impatiently, rustling his wings.

Odin folded his hands and leaned forward. "Before I can lend assistance, we must tackle the difficult crux of this conversation," he said. His glass eye spun unnaturally in its socket, focusing on things I couldn't see. "You and I, we have a small problem."

The impact of those words made my blood run cold.

"Small?" Cal spoke up beside me, sounding equally unnerved, "How small, exactly?"

Odin stood up, stretched, and nudged the wolves away from his feet. They padded sleepily back to lie behind the throne. He stepped forward, halting in front of me. "I want to help you bring down Tyr, Caliban," he spoke, his voice as sharp as a knife, "I want to bring the war to him. I want him _crushed_ under my boot. Ragnarok is not meant to happen for hundreds, if not thousands, of years."

"So what's the _problem_?" I asked, agitated as my initial hope deflated.

"If I help you kill Tyr, as events stand today, it will not work," he said solemnly, adjusting the brim of his hat, "Time is complicated. It is not something that can be manipulated without ramifications. That said, before the destruction of the bar, you originally planned to travel back in time to save _yourself_ from Lazarus."

"Yes. _O_ _riginally_ ," I ground out, wishing he would make a point already, "That was the plan. But-"

"You would have failed. Your motivation would have been different, less fierce, and therein lies the traitorous flaw."

I clenched my jaw. "You know, I've heard _toddlers_ that made more sense than you."

Odin sighed. "Such impatience," he chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Let us backtrack. Why did you _truly_ travel back to this time?"

"The Vigil killed Nik and Robin, and I...I need them."

"Yes. You do. Unfortunately, my _point_ is that if they did not die in the explosion, _you_ would never have been this motivated to succeed. Oh, I'm sure you would have tried your hardest, my boy. But you are only suicidal when it comes to your brother's wellbeing, and if he was safe you would never have traded your life for Loki's assistance. Without Loki, without that deal you made with him..." he shrugged, "He got you to Helheim. He stopped Hel from killing you. He brought you _here._ You may despise the trickster, but without him you would have died long before meeting me."

I stared at him, realizing what he was saying and resolutely _refusing_ to accept it. "No. Shut up," I hissed, bile rising in my throat.

"You _need_ motivation," Odin said sternly, "The only way I can help you defeat Tyr is if the timeline remains unchanged and your brother and the Puck die in the explosion, as they were intended to. You cannot save them, Caliban. You must choose between them and everyone else."

I clenched my hands at my sides and focused on breathing.

"No," Cal said roughly, stepping forward, " _No_. Nik _can't_ die. Not him. That's fucking unacceptable, you got that?"

I couldn't tell if Cal was going to slug Odin or not, and I currently wouldn't have minded one bit if he had. Odin planted his spear firmly against the silver floor and looked down to address Cal. "You would not need to suffer in wait. There is a way I could take your memories of the last few days and make you, Robin, and Niko forget that this ever happened. After Tyr is dead and Loki kills Caliban, as agreed upon in their arrangement, you would still have eight years with your brother before the explosion. The eight years that Caliban remembers."

"You're not actually suggesting that all this happened before?" I demanded gruffly, mind whirling, "That I lived through this when I was _his_ age?"

"I'm not dismissing the chance that it has."

I dropped my head into my hands and squeezed my eyes shut as Cal continued to yell at Odin. It made sense; hopeless, horrifying sense. The god was right, if I hadn't lost Nik, I would never have...

I looked up sharply as a wondrous idea bloomed.

"Yeah, well, I don't give a damn what you _think_ , you asshole, I'm not just going to accept this. There has to be something-"

I clapped a hand over Cal's mouth, silencing him. "Just hang on a sec," I told him, removing the hand. I moved closer to Odin. "Okay, Gandalf. You're right. It was big fucking motivation for me to see my brother and Robin die in that explosion. It's the only reason I made that deal with Loki, the only reason I'm talking to you right now, and the only reason that Cal is still alive. I get that."

"You can't be goddamn serious," Cal growled, "I was _just_ starting to not hate you."

I held up a finger, "I said hang on," I rebuked him, still thinking furiously. "What if," I said slowly, stepping closer still and lowering my voice, "What if I could set it up so that future me only _thought_ that they died that day in the explosion?"

Odin remained silent, twisting the spear back and forth in his grip.

"If I thought that they died, I would still travel back. I'd still be _motivated._ Everything would happen exactly the same. And I..." I trailed off, lip curling before I could help it as my mind created a plan faster than I'd ever planned before. It was an excellent plan. A _practical_ plan. "I know how to pull it off."

"Ice in the veins and poison in the blood," Muninn cackled once more, " _Traveler_."

Odin smiled. "In that case, Caliban, once you have secured the timeline, I will gladly help you murder Tyr."

"I'll take you up on that, old man," I promised, and then turned and ran down the steps without waiting for his dismissal. "I'll be back soon, just wait here," I called informally over my shoulder at the All-Father of the gods, decorum be dammed. Like hell I was bowing or groveling to the guy. I shoved open the silver doors, ramming one side directly into Loki's back.

He grunted and nearly fell against the wall. "Where are you wretched fools _going?_ " he yelled at our retreating shadows. A raven flew through the gap and soared after us down the hall.

Cal kept up with my stride. "Mind explaining what's going on in that screwy head of yours?"

"I remembered. The pizza guy wasn't upset," I said, grinning as I ran, "He didn't bat a goddamn eye at the explosion, didn't care that anyone had died. He just stood there, gave me the note, and ate _pizza._ "

"So what?"

"So maybe _he_ didn't see the explosion," I said, rounding the final bend and coming to a stop as I entered the library, "Okay guys, listen up. I have an idea, but we need to move fast."

"Hades, what did you two do now? Have you already managed to anger all that dwell in Valaskjalf?" Robin groaned. He blinked as Muninn flapped into the room and perched on a shelf behind me. "What is that?"

"A raven. He talks," I said dismissively.

"Curtains of blood twist up the hangman's noose," Muninn said, and pecked at the shelf.

"Delightful," Robin said distastefully, " _More_ animals. Caliban, I worry for you. Are you becoming a Disney princess?"

"Shut up," I growled at him, and then turned away and cupped my hands around my mouth. "Loki, you backstabbing bastard! Get your devious ass in here!"

A few seconds ticked by and Loki appeared, scowling. Before he could speak I tossed him the second Kyntalash. "Try to keep up. Now put this on, because you and I are going to take a little trip, shapeshifter."

Loki looked disgustedly at the device in his hand. "You cannot seriously mean for me to wear this monstrosity-"

"Yes. I seriously do. Now be silent," I said. I grabbed a random book off the nearest shelf and cleanly ripped one of the first pages out. The front of the page was blank. I shoved it into Robin's hands along with a quill. "Write it," I said.

He stared at me like I'd gone mad. "Caliban...what?"

I had a deep suspicion growing. Hel had told me days ago that I should never have gotten that note from Robin. I'd already thought it heavily suspicious that Goodfellow had left random 'just in case we die' notes everywhere. I mean, we had bad luck, but the thought that he did that all the time was morbidly depressing. The note had to have come from somewhere, and maybe, just maybe...

"I'll set the scene for you, Robin," I said, walking him over to a table, "I just watched you and Niko die. I'm about to blow my brains out, gun to my head and everything, but at the last goddamn second I get a letter that stops me from pulling the trigger. Write that letter."

"Impossible. Besides, you told me a little about it already."

"Do you remember it well enough to recite it word for word?"

He shook his head. "Of course not. Show me a line of dicks and I can match them to their men," he said coyly, winking at Niko, "But I've found mere words to be less memorable."

I moved the paper and pencil closer to him. "Write it, and _fast,_ or I'll have Garm give you a sponge bath with his tongue."

Garm's head rose at his name and he looked around happily, tongue hanging out of his mouth.

Robin took one last despairing look at me, like he thought all rationality had leaked out my ears, and then bent over the paper. He picked up the quill and began writing hastily. "Blackmail, eh? Alas, I find myself frequently humoring your wildish fancies. It escapes me what this could possibly accomplish."

I patted him on the back and leaned against the shelf to wait.

Niko stared down at him, then turned to me. "Cal..."

"Caliban," I corrected him, automatically.

"No. Just Cal," he said, lips curling, amused, "You're absolutely and in every way just Cal. Always. It took longer than it should have, but I finally see that. Now, would you mind terribly explaining this madness you have in progress? I cannot decide whether to worry about your sanity or lend assistance."

"It's simple. If his note matches the one in my pocket _exactly_..." I trailed off, and shrugged, hardly daring to hope, "Then we know that you and Robin didn't actually die. The bar didn't explode. It was all a trick."

"Yeah, but you _saw_ it happen," Cal countered, scowling, "I mean...it was real. That nightmare you had at Robin's place, that alone proves how sickeningly real it was."

"I know. The memory _seems_ real to me, so vivid and horrible that I can't even fucking..." I trailed off, and laughed darkly, "But...there's a creature Niko and I had the misfortune of meeting. Xolo. When used properly, he can make people see things, feel things, as though they are really happening. The chupacabra's dead in my present, but with a little extra time travel Loki and I could fix that right up." I nudged Cal with my elbow, "Plan is, I'm going to use that creature to traumatize you when you're twenty-six. Give you nightmares for the rest of your goddamn life. Great, huh?"

"So that Nik lives?" Cal said, and elbowed me back just as sharply.

"Yep."

" _No_ ," Niko objected, pushing us both apart like children, "That is ridiculous. I am not willing to traumatize either of you. Not to that extent. Not for me," he said firmly, "And are you seriously suggesting that this is a...a time loop?"

I held up my arm with the Kyntalash and pointed at it. "Well, we do have the technology."

"This is hardly one of your science fiction movies."

"Says the guy standing in Asgard with two copies of the same brother, one of which is a time travelling half-Auphe who has the power to create rips in reality. Annnd, oh yes, we're being attacked by _gods."_

Niko whacked the back of my head. "Do not use logic on me," he said surly, crossing his arms, "I liked it better when you were four years old and reading Dr. Seuss."

I smirked.

"I've finished penning my masterpiece," Robin said dryly, sitting back in his chair. He held the page out to me.

I didn't even glance at what he'd written. Instead, I took out the creased and crumpled letter already in my pocket and cleared my throat before I read: " _If the Vigil is more intelligent and wily than I would guess them to be-unlikely, but a true trickster never rules out anything, including the luck of idiots-this is for you. If they pulled off a coup de main and one of you brothers survive, I know you will be planning to follow the other into oblivion as you..."_

I trailed off and looked up at his paper white face, wide eyes, and slack jaw. "Sorry," I said lightly, "I have no idea how to pronounce this next part. 'Egoegoistikiistiki gioi tou skyles?' That's gotta be gibberish, right?"

Robin stood faster than I'd ever seen him move and snatched the letter from my hand. He held the two side by side. "Skata," he hissed, fingers clenched so hard I thought he might tear the paper, "This cannot be. It _cannot_."

"Obviously there is a _slight_ difference in the two copies," I said, grinning at the nude drawing on the original copy, "So Loki and I will have to sneak into your apartment and transfer your note to your special stationary. I doubt they stock that here in Asgard."

"I...I wrote that note. _Here_ ," he said, his shock morphing slowly into excitement.

"Now you're getting it. Try not to think too hard," I said, grinning as I took both copies back from him.

I motioned for Loki to come closer. "You ready for this, asshole? Put your new jewelry on and get over here so I can tell you where and when we're going first. Odin will help us kill Tyr, but before that..." I trailed off and smiled dangerously, "You and I are going to do a little traveling."

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	10. Time Travel

**Hello friends! Thanks again for your feedback. :) Enjoy the next installment.**

It was harder this time, time traveling. The moment Loki and I appeared in a darkened alley in Atlantic City I knew I was in trouble. My right arm throbbed in harmony with my head, accompanied by a new stinging pain deep in my chest. Blood dripped steadily down and over the Kyntalash.

I was a battery, and I was running out of juice.

"That was...unpleasant," Loki spoke beside me, frowning like his disappointing two-star time travel experience was all my fault. He ignored my injuries and peered up at the façade of the hotel. "Explain this doomed scheme of yours in greater depth. And slowly, please. You possess the intellect of a miniscule ant and I would not wish for you to strain yourself."

"Aww thanks, pal," I said, wiping my arm against my shirt, "Though we _both_ know I could slurp down a bowl of alphabet soup and shit out a smarter statement than you any day of the week. I'm eloquent like that."

"You are an unworthy waste of oxygen."

"Eloquent," I shot back, relieved as I started to feel like I belonged among the living again. "We're making a pit stop in the timeline for Xolo. He's a chupacabra that, when used properly, has the power to sneak an image or memory into a victim's head. We need him alive for this traumatizing shindig to go down properly, and this is the night that Nik killed Xolo...and Cherish."

Niko. Niko was still alive. Another sharp pain shot through my chest, and this time the Kyntalash wasn't at fault. I was actually scared to see my brother, scared of messing something up. Christ, this time travel shit was screwing with my head.

"Cherish? Who is she?"

I kicked a soda can away from my feet as ugly memories resurfaced. "A nightmare in silk," I growled, and left it at that. I walked slowly toward the Borgata, trying to conceal the fact that I was limping. "She's in room seventeen-eighty. If I timed this right, Niko's on his way over and Mickey's up there guarding the room. Give me your suit jacket."

"Excuse me?"

I held out my arm, and the motion sent even more blood cascading to the pavement. "Do you see this? Forget saving the world, we're not going to get past the damn _lobby_ with me looking like a slasher victim. Give me your jacket."

He sighed heavily and acquiesced, shoving the material against my chest. "You require medical attention, Aupheling. Not my clothes."

"Kinky," I teased, shrugging on the material. It fit relatively well, although a bit snug. We strode through the sliding doors, the god and the Auphe, each capable of bringing the entire building to ruin. The bleary eyed hotel staff didn't grace us with a second glance.

We got in an elevator and I pressed the button for Cherish's floor. An intoxicated younger couple weaved toward our open door and I gave them my best psychopath smile and flashed my eyes red. Just for a second, just long enough to freak them out and make them question their sanity. They wisely decided to wait for the next available elevator. As the doors closed and the elevator creaked up the shaft I turned to Loki. "For this to work, we're going to have to get Mickey to leave. He's an informant of ours, and he helped us track down Cherish. You're going to need to make him think his services aren't required anymore. I need you to look like Niko. Thank Mickey for his services, promise him oodles of extra burritos or Thai food, whatever, and ask him to leave."

To my displeasure, the elevator stopped a few floors up and the doors opened to reveal a woman and her little girl. The kid's blond hair was tied back in pigtails; her left thumb was in her mouth and her second hand gripped the string of a purple balloon. It was three in the morning...where could they _possibly_ be going? Like hell they were boarding the death elevator with us. "Sorry. We're full," I said, pressing the button to close the door.

The mother looked me over disdainfully and put a hand on her daughter's shoulder. "Wait, sweetie. Next car."

"But _Mom-"_

The doors shut again, and I found myself standing in the elevator with Niko. Holy shit, the bastard was good. "Jeez. Okay. Yeah, but..." I said, floundering to regain my composure, "This is a few years in the future, so he would be older. And your hair needs to be shorter. Like, shoulder length. And tied back."

A few seconds passed as Loki made the changes. "Like this?" he said with Niko's voice.

Fucking hell.

"Yeah. Good," I said. I was going to need _years_ of therapy. "So Mickey can't see me, obviously. I'm all wrong for this year. Get him to bring the chupa into the hallway, and once he's gone we'll get to business."

"I think I can handle a simple trick. Relax," he said, looking and sounding like my brother. The doors opened and we entered the hallway, stepping over a woman passed out on the floor. I hung back, just enough that I could peer around the corner. He nodded at me and continued to where Mickey stood shrouded in a hooded trench coat outside door seventeen-eighty. Mickey bought the illusion. Why shouldn't he? He was expecting Niko...and that's who he saw.

He gestured to Loki to break the door down, which the god did, efficiently and quietly. Mickey disappeared into the room for a moment, and then returned. "Is done," he said.

Loki nodded approvingly. "Bring the creature," he said.

Mickey entered the room for a second time and returned with Xolo wrapped up in a bed comforter. "You want me kill it?"

"No. I will," Loki told him, holding out his arms.

Mickey shrugged and passed him the bundle. "Your call."

"Go," Loki said, "I will have Cal bring you a few dozen additional burritos from Taco Bell. He needs the exercise."

I ducked into a supply closet and waited in the dark until I was sure that our informant was gone and in the elevator. Odin had given us a vial of goat blood back in Asgard, and I slid it out of my pocket and darted back to Loki's side. He had unswaddled Xolo and had one hand clapped over the creature's eyes. I held the vial to Xolo's mouth and gently removed Loki's hand so that the chupa could see who was feeding him.

"How _dare_ you," Cherish hissed from the threshold. I glanced over and saw Promise's daughter dressed in a silk nightgown, sword in hand. Gorgeous and deadly, just like Promise, but very different in all the ways that truly mattered.

I tipped the rest of the blood into Xolo's mouth. I didn't have a clue how this worked, but since the chupa was a simple creature maybe controlling him would be equally simple. "Make Cherish believe she woke up because she heard a noise," I spoke into his ear, "But she doesn't see anything there. Everything is alright. She can see you still sleeping in the other bed. She's tired and wants to go back to sleep."

The thieving vampire blinked, confused for a moment, and then her expression softened. She lowered her sword and swept a hand across her eyes, tired. "Lousy hotel," she murmured, and shut the door.

Loki whistled appreciatively and nodded at me. "I understand the conundrum now," he said, kicking the comforter to the left of the door, "Your brother was wise to kill that thing. No one should have such power."

"Yeah," I said sourly. No one should, but now _I_ did. And I was going to use it on Nik.

The thought made me physically sick.

"Okay," I said, tightening my resolve, "You just met Mickey Mouse's demented twin. Can you be him when Niko gets here?"

He raised an eyebrow. "You feel the need to ask? Are you blind? Mentally ill?"

I looked at my phone. It was almost four in the morning. When I looked back up Mickey had replaced Niko. I smirked. "The rat look is good for you. Charming. Now hang on, I'm going to try something," I told him.

He shrugged, drawing the trench coat closer around his body.

"Make it so Loki can't see or hear me," I spoke into Xolo's ear.

Loki's eyebrows rose. "Impressive," he said, staring through me. He waved a thick-skinned hand through the air, colliding with my shoulder. He gripped it harder than necessary and smiled through yellowed teeth. "Very impressive."

"Xolo, make it so Loki can see and hear me, but no one else can," I amended, and nodded at the god when he made eye contact with me again.

"And now?"

"We wait," I said, leaning tiredly against the wall.

We'd barely waited ten minutes before Niko arrived. He crossed the length of hallway like a whisper, his expression a mask of forced calm. No one else would have noticed, but I could see the barely concealed pain and rage searing out of his eyes.

He stopped beside Loki and kicked the door open, then waited in the hall as Loki acted out the scene that had happened minutes ago. I stood beside my brother, so close that I could've reached out and touched his shoulder, and looked away in shame as I gave Xolo his next order. "When the light comes on, make them see you, Xolo. Make them see you still wrapped up in the comforter on the bed. Cherish...and Nik."

Those words alone made me want to vomit. Niko and I never lied to each other. Never. And this? This was worse than a lie. This was _mind control._ I knew what this creature had done to Niko, the nightmares he'd already endured. But...this was necessary. This was going to allow me to save him.

I felt like the biggest traitor in the universe.

"Is done," Loki said, stepping back out as the lights flashed on.

Niko gestured him to go, and then stepped into the room. I slipped through the gap as he shut the door. If I had to use mind control on my brother, the least I could do was stay and watch his back. Cherish stood with her sword in hand beside the bed. For a long moment they stood like statues, analyzing each other.

"I can make you see him die every minute of every day for the rest of your life. He'll scream for you, and you'll fail him. Every time he dies. Every single time."

I squeezed my eyes shut and swiped a hand over my face. "Goddamn it," I growled.

Her promise was as sharp and biting as an ice storm, and equally as chilling. With Xolo, she could have done it. _Would_ have done it. Nik's expression dripped into something I couldn't stand to see on his face: hatred.

Niko killed her. He gave her a chance to fight for her life, and fight she did in a fury of swords. It still only took moments for her to die. She might have been older, but he was better in every way. Only Niko would give someone like that a chance.

If it'd been me...

Cherish's violet eyes were already starting to fade in death when he walked over to the empty second bed. He stared down for a moment and then swiftly grabbed ahold of the air and twisted quickly. Done. Broken neck. No more threat of mind control.

Xolo stirred in my grip, pressing his nose against my borrowed jacket. "I'm so sorry, Nik," I whispered.

He passed next to me, so close that he nearly clipped my shoulder with his own, and then he was gone.

Loki returned a few minutes later. He had swiped a Snickers candy bar from a vending machine and was stuffing his face with every sign of enjoyment. The god walked over to where I sat on the bed. "Stop moping, you witless pigeon," he said, taking another bite. Chunks of chocolate dropped to the carpet. "We have your awful creature. Now what?"

I lifted my head up off my hands. "Goodfellow," I said, "We have to go see Goodfellow."

"No," he said, realizing what I was saying. "We are not going to willingly bestow the cerebral weapon of mass destruction to the self-obsessed, horny Puck. No."

"Yes," I said simply, and gated the three of us to an alley beside Robin's apartment.

We needed Xolo in the future, but it was impossible to take the chupa with us when we made the next time jump. That meant we needed to leave the creature with someone we trusted. That was the easy part. I trusted Goodfellow. I just wasn't sure how to go about the whole 'Hey, it's me. How are you? Oh, yeah, and guess what? I time travel now' issue.

"My ears do not deceive me, then. How unfortunate. Well, I suppose the world has existed for long enough," he said, scraping a sandwich wrapper off his shoe.

"Oh shut up, you're fine," I dismissed him, and made my decision. "Stay here. I don't know how much he knows, if anything, but I don't want to reveal too much about this whole fuck-up of a situation."

"You intend for me to linger in this disgusting garbage heap?" he inquired with distaste.

"If you get chilly, there's a homeless guy over there that might share his blanket," I quipped, and gated directly into Robin's apartment. Screw subtlety. I didn't have time for it.

Thank _all_ gods, Goodfellow was alone in his kitchen. Fully clothed. His apartment was as pristine as ever and he was occupied with pouring a glass of wine, his back to me.

"Robin?" I said tentatively.

He whirled around, instantly on edge, and saw me. He relaxed. "Ah, Caliban. Do you have any _idea_ what time it is? Have we not been through enough lately, must you really sneak...up...on..." he trailed off as his brain caught up and he saw _me,_ older me, and Xolo. His brow furrowed. One hand brushed the hilt of his sword, but he didn't draw it. Not yet. "Explain," he said.

Xolo was squirming so I sat him down on the hardwood floor. I straightened back up and ran a hand through my tangled mess of hair. "You don't remember anything, then?"

"Remember _what_ , exactly? Who _are_ you?"

"Cal. I'm Cal, Loman. I swear."

"I will decide that for myself. Stop moving. Why the blazes are you in possession of Cherish's cursed creature? Niko _just_ called to confirm he destroyed the monstrosity."

"He thinks he did," I admitted darkly.

"Obviously he was mistaken," he said, gesturing to the chupa. Salome approached Xolo with naked curiosity, arching her back as she stalked closer. "And what in the name of Zeus' wandering dick are you wearing? Formal attire? _You?_ Unthinkable. And...is that..." he paused, "Why are you dripping blood on my floor?"

There wasn't going to be an easy way to breech this situation, so I decided I might as well just slap him in the face with it and get the worst over with. I slowly rolled up the bottom of my right sleeve, revealing the bright red and black bands of the Kyntalash. "This is why," I said simply.

His hand dropped from the hilt of his sword. " _Gamiseme,_ _"_ he breathed, stepping forward. I held my arm out and he ran his fingers over the metal. From his expression of shock at seeing the device he truly didn't remember a thing. Odin must have succeeded in wiping the others' memories of the incident. I didn't have the energy to care how the god had done it. I'd worry about that when I returned to the past.

"That's enough," I muttered, pulling my arm from his grip and rolling the blood slicked sleeve back down, "If you know what this is, you also know it's not safe to even look at the damn thing."

Robin watched me for a moment, then grasped my elbow and gently steered me to the couch. I sank exhausted into the velvet cushions. He walked back into the kitchen and returned to hand me a glass of water. "What's going on?" he asked softly, sitting beside me.

I took a sip, and the liquid felt cool against my tongue and soothed my throat. "It's been a long fucking couple of days, that's what," I said honestly, and lowered the glass to my lap. "I can't tell you anything."

"Caliban-"

"No. Don't. Don't try to make me tell you. I want to, but I won't. I _can't_. So please...just don't."

He tightened his jaw but didn't push the issue. "How badly are you bleeding?" he asked instead.

I smiled slightly, then swiped a hand across my eyes and took another sip of water. "Not bad," I lied. He gave me a skeptical look, and my grin widened. I needled him lightly with my elbow. "It's good to see you. I need a massive favor."

"Am I correct that you are both keeping me completely in the dark as to your perilous situation _and_ demanding a favor of me?" he said sourly.

"Yes."

"Fabulous. Business as usual, it seems. At the very least your lack of common sense is intact," he said. Salome approached and began to lap my blood up off the floor. He kicked her lightly, and she hissed and darted back.

"I need you to keep Xolo for me. Keep him safe, keep him hidden. I'm going to need him later."

He sighed, agitated. "Need I remind you that creature is a danger to society as a whole?"

"Trust me, I goddamn know, okay? We all saw what that thing's capable of doing. But if anyone has the means keep the chupa hidden, it's you."

"Flattery will not work on me, kid."

"You're the only one I trust to do it," I pleaded earnestly, "If he ever fell into the wrong hands..."

He groaned. "Yes, yes, we've seen what happens then. _Skata_. Fine, Caliban. I'll babysit your horrid creature for you. I tire of you constantly dropping new pets at my door. You _will_ pay me a weighty sum when you eventually come to collect him, of course."

"Absolutely. Do you want to be paid in Skittles or Sour Patch Kids?"

"Hopeless. Absolutely hopeless," he said, and chuckled. "Ah, well. Do you require anything else at the moment? Am I to steal some ancient artifact? Introduce you to a powerful ally?"

"Nah, none of that. I'm okay. But I do need a few pages of your stationary," I said, fishing in my pocket. I drew out the note and flashed it at him, briefly, "You know, the one with the anatomy lesson for the kiddies."

He stared as I pocked the note. "How did you get that? _Where_ did you get that?"

I grinned. "No questions, remember?"

"You're no fun," he pouted. He stood up, walked over to his desk, and slid out a few pieces of paper. He turned and leaned against the desk, eyeing me up nonchalantly. "You appear to be...what? Twenty-six? Twenty-seven?"

I smirked and made my way over to him. I plucked the papers from his hand. "You really hate not knowing everything, don't you?" I teased him. I squeezed his shoulder and stepped back. "Don't tell anyone about this. I'll be seeing you."

I gated out of his apartment and back into the alley. Loki took one look at me without Xolo and raised his eyes to the heavens. "You've killed us all, Aupheling. The atrocities that Puck could do with a creature such as that..." he trailed off and shivered.

"He's not gonna do diddly squat. Honestly. You're such a drama queen, you know that?" I said, and gated us into the library so that we copy the letter onto Robin's stationary. The building was closed, but as gating was a free pass to everywhere that didn't stop us. The library had a miniscule budget, which meant piss poor security and zilch in the guards department.

Loki ran his fingers across one of the dusty shelves as we waited for the page to print. "Enlighten me...are you certain you will _survive_ additional time jumps?" he asked, and raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

I glanced at him as I took the finished page from the tray and pocketed it. "I'll be fine," I said, even though I was ready to hurl at the mere _thought_ of using the Kyntalash again. "We might as well go now, get it over with."

"To your present?"

"Two weeks before. Robin's having a party, and we're taking charge of the guest list."

We set on a date, time, and location and made the jump. I came out even worse this time. It felt like someone was slowly ripping out my intestines and flaying them with a knife. "Goddamn it," I hissed, crouching with my elbows on my knees and hands pressed against my eyes. " _Fuck."_

"Are you..."

"I'm fine!" I snapped. I straightened up, taking in the abandoned junkyard. I pulled out my phone and turned it on. "Here," I said, handing it to Loki, "Block the number and call Goodfellow. Pretend you just found out he's having a party and you weren't invited. Oh, the horror. The _humanity._ You'll die alone in a shack with Thor-"

Loki smacked me across the chest, successfully knocking the wind out of me. I hunched over and grinned through the pain as I struggled to catch my breath. I'd deserved that one.

He dialed the number and put the phone to his ear.

"Speaker," I wheezed out, using the rusted bumper of a truck to pull myself back up.

He shot me a death glare but hit the button.

"Who is this?" Robin's voice asked.

"Intriguing news has spread amongst the inner circles that you are having a party. Whoring. Alcohol. Sex. Am I not invited?"

There was a brief pause. "Loki?" he said finally, sounding delighted and unsurprised. I'd been right, apparently. Gods _did_ call him all the time. "Ah yes, greetings my friend. You must forgive me, but when I enquired after you Thor told me that you were still neck deep in that con down in Vegas."

"I have grown tired of that enterprise," Loki improvised, not missing a beat, "The tedious process has taken too long and the stakes are far too low, not to mention the human women are ridiculous and sparkly. Poor company for a god."

"If you remember I _did_ advise you against the con at the start. As it stands now, I must admit I am hesitant to invite you to another party after your disappointing behavior at the last."

Loki winced. Actually winced. I perked up, interested.

"Those deaths were _not_ my fault-"

"Three _kitsunes,_ Loki. Three."

"Yes, well-"

"I had to have the entire spare bedroom completely remodeled. There was blood caked into the dressers and unidentifiable fluids globbed on the ceiling. And what were you all gamou _doing_ with the microwave and the bedsheets like that? And the goddamn _horses?"_

I fought desperately not to laugh.

Loki glared harder in my direction. "Not _entirely_ my fault, then."

"Whose fault do you suggest it was?"

"I do not...they were all so _flexible_ , and they had those _tails_ , and one of them suggested...I mean..."

I elbowed him.

"Yes, okay, it was my fault. I _am_ sorry," he said in flat tones, pushing me away against a rusted car, "Now please, let me attend this party. I swear I will behave and I won't kill anyone. For fuck's sake, Goodfellow, I'm _bored."_

"Well..."

"All I want to do is show Thor how to drink and whore in a manner befitting of gods, not rutting hogs drunk from fallen fermented orchard apples. No killing. You have my solemn word."

There was a pause. "Alright," Robin said reluctantly, sighing dramatically, "Since you begged so pathetically. But remember, if you so much as put a _scratch_ on anyone in my presence, I'll have you working as my microwave heating Cal's horrid Thai and pizza leftovers for the next ten years. Do not test me."

"I would never dream of it," Loki said through clenched teeth. He disconnected the call.

I managed to keep my mouth shut for a few seconds before I couldn't help myself anymore. "A microwave, bedsheets, and some horses, huh?"

He sighed and rolled his eyes. "I make one _tiny_ mistake, and I never hear the end of it," he said, more amused than angry, "Besides, everything was going well until one of the kitsune's tails...well..." he trailed off and waved a hand in some swirling gesture I couldn't quite make out.

"And then it stopped going well?"

"You could say that," he said, smirking. He threw the phone at my face. "What now?"

I whipped the device back at him. "Blackmail."

It was incredibly easy for Loki to force himself to attend the party. He called his present self up in Vegas and used Goodfellow's voice to blackmail him with the same information I remembered from attending the fated party: Sif's hair. As soon as he threatened telling Thor that he, Loki, had chopped off her golden locks, Loki went from disinterested and sullen to desperate and sullen. Very, _very_ desperate.

It was funny as hell.

Afterwards I gated us across town to the vacant stairwell of my apartment complex. "You live _here?_ This building should be condemned," Loki complained as we trudged upwards.

"Hey, don't knock our place," I shot back, kicking the back of his leg lightly, "It's kickass. Water even comes from the fridge."

"How very magical for you," he drawled, shifting into Goodfellow in the time it took to climb two steps. "Are you certain all I must accomplish is make sure Niko drags you along to that party?"

I nodded, then looked away and hung back in a shadow as Loki finished the climb to the door. To my _home_. It was painfully difficult to just stand there and wait. I clenched my hands so tightly that my fingernails nearly broke the skin of my palms. Niko was in that room. _My_ Niko, not some prequel from eight years ago. I wanted nothing more than to run to him like a frightened five-year-old and tell him everything.

But Odin had warned me that every alteration in the timeline would leave repercussions, and I wasn't willing to take the chance. So I watched Loki pick the lock and continue inside like he owned the place, and I didn't run into the apartment.

It was so goddamn hard.

The minutes seemed to crawl as I hunched against the wall and waited, hands deep in my pockets. Finally, Loki stepped back into the hallway and looked back over his shoulder. "And for gods sake, make sure that kid wears something decent for a change. His wardrobe is a tattered pile of scraps, barely fit for mopping the floors of a slaughterhouse."

"Yes, and perhaps while I'm at it I will solve the world's hunger crisis," Niko said wryly, leaning in the doorframe, "Worry less about his attire at this event and more about who he will permanently maim. Your priorities are skewed."

Loki continued down the steps and waved a dismissive hand. "I'm eighty percent sure he will not cause a cataclysmic incident."

I slipped deeper into the shadow and watched as Niko shut the door. The god and I continued down the stairwell in silence.

"I agree that the past eight years have made an impressive difference in your brother," Loki said when we opened the main door and stepped outside. He looked me over with a smirk, "Alas, you remain an obstinate asshole."

"Yeah, well. Everyone can't win the personality jackpot," I said. The smell of chili cheese dogs wafted from a nearby street cart, and I pulled the collar of my borrowed suit up so that I could smell blood and sweat instead.

Loki steered us into yet another deserted alley and leaned nonchalantly against the brick wall. "What _exactly_ did we just accomplish with all these meetings and phone calls?" he asked, openly amused, "Beside setting ourselves up on a disastrous blind date?"

I snorted and covered my face with my hands. "Oh hell, you're right," I said, and smiled at the absurdity of it all, "No, that's it, really. That's all we accomplished. A goddamn blind date. I suppose we could start a matchmaking service when this is all over."

"The Puck would be delighted, I'm sure," Loki said, rolling his eyes.

Delighted was one word for it. There were other far more colorful phrases I could have used to describe _that_ situation. "Let's just go," I said, shaking my head. I sighed and held up my Kyntalash next to his, "Goddamn matching bracelet powers...activate."

"You're ridiculous," Loki said, and we made the final time jump to the day my whole world exploded.

 **Please Review!**


	11. Homecoming

Someone was slapping my cheek. It stung, but more like a faded memory than actual physical pain. I choked a single breath into my lungs and felt the scrape of gravel beneath my skin and the brush of wind on my face. Another slap landed sharply across my face, and I opened my eyes.

"Just so we are on the same page, know that if you perish now I am _not_ finishing your doomed quest," Loki spoke from where he knelt beside me. He peered down into my face and slapped me again, lighter this time, "So you had best pull your frail blood-sack together and survive, you detestable gypsy."

I took another shaky breath and clenched my fist, raking up a handful of stones. "W-what...what happened?" I muttered, oddly detached.

"You did a swan dive and kissed the pavement with your skull. Let me guess...you're _fine,_ " he said, putting overemphasized air quotes around the word.

"Yep. I'm fine," I sniped back, grimacing as stabbing pain returned to roost in every inch of my body like a creeping assailant. "Don't suppose you've got Tylenol on you or anything?"

He frowned and grabbed my left hand to heave me to my feet. I wavered but didn't fall. Blood dripped like a steady rain from my fingertips. "Okay. So..." I said, shaking my head in an attempt to clear it, "We need to go back to Goodfellow's place, get Xolo."

"Do not even consider gating, you suicidal maniac. I'll take us," Loki said, watching me sway. He put out a hand to steady me. "Will he be alone?"

"Robin? Hell, I don't know. It's either he's alone or he's with fifty naked paien covered in edible body paint. Take your pick. Although he's monogamous these days, so at worst we could bust in on him and my feathery boss going at it like-"

"Hallway then," Loki interrupted, pinching the bridge of his nose. The world blurred and we were immediately transported to the stretch of carpet outside Robin's place.

I stepped forward and knocked on the door, then stood back apprehensively.

"Edible body paint? Really?" Loki muttered out of the corner of his mouth.

"That's not even the worst thing I've walked in on. Visiting his place used to be a major health and sanity risk," I said, and then reached forward and pounded on the wood. "Goodfellow! Get your ass out here, you lazy goat!"

There was a pause, muffled swearing, and then hurried footsteps. The door swung open to reveal an impatient and disheveled Puck with white feathers twisted in his hair. It didn't take much imagination to figure out what he'd been doing, though I absolutely did not want any part of that mental image. At least he was still mostly clothed.

"Goddamn it, Caliban, I'm _busy_ , what could you possibly..." he trailed off, paling as he looked me over. "It's you."

"It's me," I said, spreading my arms wide and then letting them drop back to my sides with a thud. "Surprise. Sorry, I forgot the Skittles. Now can we please come in and take a load off for a minute or two? Tell me you don't have a raging swarm of supernatural entities humping one another in there."

"Only Ish," he said, looking me over with growing concern. He pulled me into a rough hug. "Goddamn it, kid. You look like _death_."

I rested my head against his shoulder for a few seconds and then lightly pushed away. "Eh, it's not so bad," I assured him with a tiny smile as I flicked a feather off my jacket.

"It _is_ pretty bad," Loki chorused behind me, peeking around my shoulder, "The Aupheling has practically a foot and a half in the grave."

"Shut up," I snapped.

Robin frowned. He moved aside and allowed us to pass through the door frame. "Have a seat, I'll be right there," he promised, and strode back to the bedroom. I sank down on the couch and listened as Ishiah slipped out the door.

"I assume you've returned to claim Xolo," Robin said, buttoning his linen shirt as he reentered the room.

As soon as the words left his mouth I felt something brush against me. I looked down to see the chupa practically curled around my ankle. "Holy shit, where did he even...how did you...that's _creepy_ ," I muttered.

"Try rooming with him for a few years, then _maybe_ you can complain," Robin bristled, sitting next to me on the couch so that he could pull the jacket from my shoulders. He passed me a cup of goat blood and gestured for me to feed Xolo. "He always lingered around you when you visited, Caliban. It was unnerving. And I was never truly able to get Salome to ignore him. I'm not sure if she's got some supernatural immunity or just stupid luck. Did it sincerely never attract your attention that the damned cat always hissed and moped around in your presence? I worried several times that you would become suspicious."

"I just assumed she hated me," I said with a shrug, glancing at the hairless cat resting on the table as I fed cup of goat blood to the chupa.

"Well, there's that too," Goodfellow allotted as he stared at the ruin of my arm and tossed the blood soaked jacket to the floor. I didn't want to look for myself this time; the bleak expression on his face gave more than enough detail away anyway. "Cal..." he said apprehensively, "I've lived long enough to see innumerable limbs amputated for various reasons. Your arm..."

"Looks _way_ worse than it actually is," I assured him, spinning the now empty glass atop the coffee table with my left hand.

He ground his teeth in exasperation and snatched the cup in midair as it careened off the wood and made a nosedive for the pristine carpet. He stood and made his way to the kitchen. "Is that so? Have you by chance inspected it recently?" he called from across the room, and then continued before I could respond, "Never mind. Of course you haven't. What do you want to eat?"

I blanched at the change of subject. "I'm good, thanks."

"You appear as though you've spent the last month wandering around a god forsaken wasteland. You're eating something. What do you want?"

"Nothing."

"Cal."

"Water?"

"Water is _not_ food. I was under the impression that even _you_ would understand that difference."

I groaned and dropped my head in my hands. "Orange juice?"

Apparently that was an acceptable choice, because moments later Robin was back with the detestable substance. Pulp clung to the sides of the glass as he placed it in my hands, and I grimaced at the tiny particles as I contemplated my chances of _not_ puking all over myself.

Goodfellow watched me apprehensively. Why wouldn't he? I was staring at juice like it was the antichrist, for god's sake. What the hell was wrong with me? It wasn't as if oranges had anything to do with meat or charred flesh or explosions. Fuck. Robin was alive. He and Nik were alive, and I was man enough to fucking handle a glass of liquid fruit. I knocked my knee against his for moral support and took a large sip of the juice. The tart liquid swirled around my mouth and slipped down my throat and miraculously stayed there. I sighed, relieved and victorious, and finished nearly half of the glass before Robin spoke again.

"You would tell me if you thought you were about to die," he inquired, his voice edged with worry, "You _would_ , wouldn't you?"

I swirled the rest of the juice around the glass a few times and then decided not to risk finishing it. I lowered the cup to the coffee table. "Yeah. Obviously," I told him.

"Good," he said, not looking even remotely convinced. He slung an arm over my shoulder. "Now. It's obvious that you have no intention of cluing me in to this dire situation of yours."

"You really can't know, Loman."

"Fine," he said, all too agreeably. "But I insist that you at least tell Niko what's going on."

My eyes snapped up to his. "No."

"Caliban-"

" _No_. I don't want him to see..." I trailed off, and groaned. "The answer is no, okay?"

He put up his hands in surrender. "Fine. We can talk more on this later, alright? At least go to your apartment and put on some fresh clothes and a clean jacket to cover up your arm," he said. I opened my mouth to protest and he added, "As you are well aware, the present you is working down at the bar and Niko is teaching class. The apartment is empty. Now go."

I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head. "We don't have _time-"_

"Go now or, instead of your usual vulgar attire, I will force you to wear another vividly pink sweater over corduroy pants. You did look splendid in such apparel the last time I forced it upon you."

Loki snorted from across the room.

"Christ, Loman. You don't play fair," I groaned, but obediently stood.

"Can you gate?" Loki asked, tossing a glass figurine lazily from one hand to the other.

I waved a hand. "Yeah. I'm fine, remember? I'll see you both in a few."

I created the gate around me and went directly into my bedroom. It was exactly as I remembered it, barely livable perfection. It looked as though a robber had ruffled through my stuff and then been frightened away mid-heist. I wanted to throw myself onto the clothes covered bed and sleep for _days._

Instead, I waded through the ordered chaos and dug through the pile I knew was clean for a shirt. I settled for the one that said _'Good morning, shithead. I see the assassins have failed.'_ It was a few years old, faded, and yet oddly satisfying in its relevancy. I pulled on a relatively clean pair of jeans and fished one of my newer jackets off the floor. It was only a couple months old, max. None of my clothes ever withstood extracurricular monster hunting activities.

It was comforting to be back in my own attire, not borrowed pieces of someone else's wardrobe. I still hadn't examined my arm. I considered wrapping it or trying _something_ to stop the bleeding, but decided I didn't want to leave blood lying suspiciously all over the apartment. I threaded my torn-up arm gingerly through the right sleeve, then began working on the left.

"Cal."

I froze, my back to the bedroom door. _Fuck._ I hadn't even heard him come in. He'd been quiet, impossibly quiet, but wasn't he always? I squeezed my eyes shut and didn't turn around. "You're not supposed to be here. You _can't_ be here."

"Robin called nearly fifteen minutes ago," Niko said evenly. I could practically feel his eyes on me, analyzing my every move. "He said I had to get home, said it was urgent."

"That goddamn traitorous son of a bitch," I muttered as I finished sliding on my jacket.

This was worst case scenario shit right here. Niko seeing me now screwed up _everything._ I needed him to wait unaware in the bar while I traumatized mini-me. I needed him to stay in the future while I went back into the past to battle gods without him. I needed him to be oblivious that I was going to die and never come back. He was _not_ supposed to be standing in my goddamn room making me question my goddamn sanity and screwing with my goddamn plan.

"Cal?"

"I have to go," I croaked, and made a gate inches in front of me.

Niko was on me before I'd even finished the gate, tackling me to the ground faster than he'd ever moved in his life. He pinned me efficiently to the ground, inadvertently putting pressure on my right arm. I flinched, and he readjusted his grip so that he could lift up the sleeve of my jacket. The motion revealed a peak at both the Kyntalash and my limb's wretched state.

"So I've decided that I'm gonna write a book," I told him, laughing helplessly as his face turned paper white, "I'm calling it 'Don't Fucking Time Travel.' Thought of that awhile ago, figured you might appreciate it, you being a literary genius and all, but you weren't _there_ , you lying bastard. You _weren't._ So I'm...I'm telling you now. Okay?"

"Close the gate," he said hoarsely.

I glanced up and saw it shining silver above my bed. I hadn't even realized it was still open. "I can't stay...shit, Nik. You're not supposed to know any of this. You can't _be here."_

"Close the goddamn gate," Niko growled desperately as he shook me, careful not to jostle my arm. "You have never run from me before, little brother. Don't you dare start now. _Close it._ "

I tightened my jaw, refusing to let him get through to me. I had to protect him, to get away, to fix this. Niko couldn't know anything. Maybe I could use Xolo to take his memory of the last few minutes, replace it with another memory, a _better_ memory. I had to escape, I had to make another gate, I had to _run._

"Cal. _Please."_

His words finally pierced through the whirling cloud of depression, fear, and sleeplessness I'd been buried under for days. All the fight drained out of me in an instant, and I slumped back against the floor. I let the gate go, watching as the light of the tear dimmed to a pinpoint and vanished.

Niko sagged against me for a moment. "Thank god," he breathed, relieved. He rolled off and crouched beside me on the carpet, then carefully helped me sit up. I leaned back against the mattress and cradled my head in my hands.

"How bad?" Niko asked quietly, reaching out to touch my arm.

I laughed darkly and tilted my head so that I could peer up at him. "I'm not sure. I haven't looked. Not since the last time jump. It knocked me out cold though...drains me like a fucking battery every time," I said, and let my head drop back down. "I don't want to look," I admitted softly.

"Every time? How many..." he trailed off and swore, then took a firm hold of my good arm. "Come on," he said sternly, "My room. We need to get you fixed up."

"We don't have the supplies for it, Cyrano," I said tiredly, "Trust me. And I don't have _time."_

"You're dripping blood everywhere. It's seeping through your jacket, into your precious mounds of laundry, into the carpet _,"_ he hissed, furious, "You have time, you asshole. And if you really think you don't, if you're truly ready to just give up and die, then do this for _me_ , okay?"

I raised my head and gave him an apologetic smile. "For you," I agreed, and let him pull me to my feet. Hell, he was _alive._ Living, breathing, talking. I'd have done just about anything for him at that point.

He helped me across the hall and sat me down on the corner of his bed. His eyes drifted toward the bathroom where all our medical supplies were kept, yet he hesitated with one hand still gripping my sleeve.

"Go ahead. I promise I won't ditch you," I told him, giving him a small push toward the hallway.

He tightened his jaw but took my word at face value and walked away for a moment, leaving me with alone with an outlandish gnawing fear that the bathroom was going to explode around him in a fiery inferno. He returned unscathed and dumped the armload of supplies on the bed beside me before grasping my arm again. "We need to take your jacket back off."

I grimaced. Between the two of us we managed to peel it off. Niko stared for a long time, his calm façade crumbling to fear and desperation.

I finally gathered the courage and looked for myself. I could see nothing but muscle and bone underneath the Kyntalash, and it wasn't much better further up my arm where more muscle was exposed than skin. The entire limb was slick with blood, though it didn't seem to be outright bleeding anymore. I reached my hand into my sleeve to see how far the damage went, and found that it continued to the base of my neck. I lowered my hand to my lap and wiped the blood on my jeans.

Niko backed up and placed both hands on his head. "How did this _happen?_ " he inquired in a strangled whisper.

"It's okay," I told him, even though I knew it wasn't. I could be brave for him.

He lowered his hands slowly, reached out to me, and pulled back again. " _Fuck_ , Cal. Why did you..." he trailed off and swallowed hard, "I don't know what to do. I can't fix this. There's not enough skin left to stitch you up."

"It's _okay_ ," I repeated, kicking my leg lightly so that my boot tapped his knee. "I'm still here, aren't I? Just wrap it with gauze or something."

He squeezed his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Wrap it with gauze? Wrap _that_ with gauze? Really? That's your definitive fix all solution?" he ground out with nearly exhausted patience. He moved to sit beside me on the bed all the same. "You're a brainless idiot. Do enlighten me, is the gauze magical?"

"I had leprechauns, fairies, and Santa's elves bless it a few months back. So yes, very magical."

Niko sighed heavily. He picked up the roll of gauze and I held my arm out to him, unnerved that I could see my muscles stretch and pull over bone. Nauseous, I watched Niko instead as he began to wrap my arm. His calm front had returned like a steel shield, but I could still discern a slight tremble in his hands as he wound the cloth tightly.

"I've had worse," I told him.

"You have _not,_ " he shot back, glaring slightly.

I raised an eyebrow. "You telling me this doesn't pale in comparison to Robin's advances on you years ago?"

He shook his head, "Not in the slightest, little brother," he said solemnly, not rising to the bait. He paused and looked up, meeting my gaze. "Tell me," he pleaded.

My breath hitched. Tell him? Where would I even _start?_ I opened my mouth and an ugly laugh ripped from my lungs, the same as before. The sound was quickly blurring past hysteria and heading straight into sob territory, which was unacceptable, so I snapped my mouth shut and focused on breathing as my head throbbed. "You don't want to know," I said weakly.

Niko frowned but didn't push the issue. He continued wrapping my arm efficiently, one layer after the next, until the task was finished. He disappeared into the bathroom and I listened as water rushed down the drain. He returned with blood free hands and wordlessly settled beside me on the bed, shoulder to shoulder. We sat there for a few minutes, the silence only broken by familiar sounds of traffic on the street below.

"You die today," I said finally, barely audible.

Whatever he'd been expecting, it wasn't that. His gray eyes snapped up to meet mine, horrified. Not for himself, but for me.

I pulled in another shaky breath. "You...and Robin...you both die, later tonight, at the Ninth Circle," I continued, twisting a hand in his shirt to anchor myself, "Everyone died. There was an explosion. I was...I was outside. Since then I've been all over the place. Different years, different cities, Helheim, Asgard, you goddamn name it I've probably been there. I've been all over the place, trying to fix it. And the fucking stupid Vigil made a fucking stupid mistake and turned their Lazarus experiment into a walking, breathing, all but indestructible _god_ , and-"

Niko reached out and pulled me against him tightly. I sagged against his shoulder. He was warm, he was _alive_ , and he smelled like sweat and weapon oil and goat milk soap. Not charred flesh, not smoke and ashes and decay. I breathed in deep and tried to hang on to this reality, to ignore the searing brightness of the explosion that blazed like the sun every time I closed my eyes. It hadn't been real, I knew that now. It was only a trick. _My_ trick.

Why couldn't I just fucking _forget?_

This time the sound that escaped me was a sob.

"I'm sorry," Niko said, clutching me tighter, "I'm so goddamn sorry."

I swallowed back another sob. "I'm trying to fix it," I told him again, voice muffled against his shirt, and then I told him everything. All of it. I told him about Tyr, about the lightning and the nooses and drowning in the harbor. I told him about Hel and Loki and Garm, and about Odin and his talking ravens. I told him about tweaking the timeline, stealing Xolo from the hotel, and setting up Robin's party. I told him how I was planning to use Xolo later at the bar. I told him everything.

Everything except my deal with Loki.

When I was finished, Niko pushed me back so that he could see me. "What can I _do?"_ he asked, completely supportive as always, flat out ignoring the fact that I'd tricked him and avoided him and used _mind control_ on him.

I took a deep breath and shook my head. "Nothing, Cyrano. You can't interfere, you shouldn't even know any of this crap," I said, keeping my fingers clutched around his shirt so tightly that I was probably going to leave holes in the fabric. I didn't care if I was being clingy, I'd spent the last week with a Niko shaped hole carved in my chest. I was entitled to cling.

"Cal, I know now. I'm _here_ now. You know perfectly well that I would never walk away and leave you like this. If you need to keep me in the dark so badly, just use Xolo on me again after I'm done helping you."

Waves of shame washed through my chest. "I'm so sorry-"

"No. Do _not_ say that _._ What you've lived through, what you're trying to accomplish by yourself..." he trailed off bitterly, shaking his head, "I'm supposed to watch your back. _I'm_ the one that should be sorry. Now stop being so stubborn and tell me what you need."

Yeah, because _I_ was the stubborn one. Goddamn it, I really did have the best brother. "I know you want to help. And I..." I ran out of words and scrubbed a shaking hand across my face, "Trust me, I don't even want to let you out of my goddamn _sight_ , okay? But time travel is a ginormous and finicky pain in the ass. Any alteration of events could leave us even more screwed than we already are. You _can't_..."

"I'm not leaving you," Niko interjected vehemently.

I groaned, and my lips curled into a crooked smile despite everything. "You're incorrigible, you know that? Jesus." I squeezed my eyes shut and thought for a moment, tapping my fingers nervously against my knee as I ran through multiple possible scenarios in my head. Pessimist that I was, they all ended with explosions and gun shots and stab wounds. "I just don't want you to get _hurt_."

"I won't. I promise."

"Fine. You can tag along for a few hours," I caved, jabbing a finger against his chest, "But I have nonnegotiable terms, understand? You have to promise that when the time comes you'll willingly let me use Xolo to take the memory of this afternoon from you. That means you'll go sit in that bar tonight, Nik. You'll watch me gate out of the room to get pizza, and I won't come back. I might never come back. And you won't know _why._ "

He scowled, deeply conflicted. I watched as inner turmoil swirled behind his eyes as he fought to defy everything his big brother handbook entailed. "I promise," he said miserably, and swatted the back of my head. "But I have terms of my own. You're coming back, Cal. Understand?"

 _Sorry, big brother. I won't. Even if Tyr doesn't manage to kill me, Loki's got a contract to take my life the second all this is over. I'll spend the rest of eternity in Helheim, and you'll never see me again._ "Absolutely," I lied.

"So..." he prompted, motioning me to get on with it.

I smirked and punched him lightly on the arm. " _So_ the Vigil's batshit insane. I don't know how they pulled off creating a bloodthirsty, time traveling war god with the personality of Hitler and Genghis Khan sprinkled with a hint of Stalin, but that's where I draw the line. They've been fucking with us since the beginning, since _Darkling,_ and now they've fucked up so badly that the world could've ended, still _might_ end if Tyr has his way. There's at least two Vigil members still alive, and I want to take them out before they can either kill you for _real_ or move on to their next enterprise of stupid, like developing a 'grow your own Godzilla' kit and selling it to children."

Niko's lips curved upward at that. "Alright, little brother. We'll stop the giant lizard from ever reaching the shelves," he said wryly, and tapped my wrist. "How much time?"

I glanced at the clock on the wall. "We have about six hours until we have to be at the bar, that should be _more_ than enough..." I began, and cut off as I saw movement in the hallway.

Loki peered down his nose at both of us, leaning briefly against the doorframe. "Carry on with your tediously emotional reunion, humans. I merely require the use of your subpar facilities," he said, pointing toward the bathroom before walking onward.

Niko stared, clearly unnerved. " _When_ did he get into the apartment?" he demanded, turning to me with narrowed eyes, " _Why_ didn't you hear him?"

" _Me?_ What about you? You didn't hear him either," I said, and then raised my good arm in self defense as Niko scowled. "Okay, sorry. Goddamn it," I muttered. I squeezed my eyes shut, exhaling slowly to the count of ten gain back a scrap of patience for my next inquiry. "Robin?" I yelled.

"Lounging out here. Please, take your time," he called from the living room.

"I _really_ hate you right now."

"Impossible," he replied, "But please continue lying to yourself if you wish."

The toilet flushed and Loki passed by again, simultaneously giving us a bright wave and flipping us off as he walked by.

I snatched my jacket off the bed and slid it on over the heavy bandages, then pulled my Auphe glove over my right hand to cover the cuts that trailed from the Kyntalash to lace my palm and knuckles. The way things were going I was going to have a skeletal hand in a few hours. That didn't mean I damn well had to look at it. "Come on," I said exasperatedly to Niko, "Let's greet the circus performers."

Loki and Robin were sitting on the couch watching television, _golf,_ of all things. Xolo sat between them on the floor, playing with an empty cup.

"Anything I can get you two delinquents? Popcorn? Magazines? A three course meal?" I drawled, crossing my arms.

Loki had a bag of Doritos open on his lap and his feet propped up on the coffee table. As I watched, he wiped his cheese powdered hand on the armrest and reached back into the bag once again. "I'm curious. Do you know where the Vigil actually _are?"_ he asked, stuffing five additional chips in his mouth.

I could have stabbed him. It wouldn't have done much good, certainly wouldn't have killed him at any rate, but I could've. It would have made me feel a thousand times better. "No, you eavesdropping bastard. I don't. But Robin will." As soon as I finished speaking Xolo darted from under the couch and wrapped himself around my left leg. I made a face and tried to kick him off, but the sucker hung on like glue.

Robin pointed. "See that? You didn't know it, but that's what happened nearly every time he saw you," he said, shrugging, "Extremely disconcerting, to say the least. And I'm sorry, Caliban, but I haven't an inkling where the remaining Vigil members reside, if there are any. I have _guesses_ , yes, but nothing concrete."

"I know where the madmen hide, traveler."

I spun toward the scratchy voice, kicking Xolo away as I moved. A raven perched atop the fridge, watching us.

Niko held his katana steady. "Cal?"

"It's okay. He's on our side...probably," I told him, lowering my Eagle and placing a hand on his blade, "So don't start chopping wings."

"Three prevail, with brains overflowing with rot," Muninn said, and with a flap of his wings he drifted down to perch on my shoulder, "Three misguided souls ripe for the swing of a scythe."

I tilted my head away from him as a feather poked my eye, and before I could step away Xolo climbed back onto my shoe and clutched at my pant leg.

I groaned. "Okay you two. Seriously. This is just...this is _way_ too much togetherness," I said, agitated, shaking Xolo free from my leg first before flinging my hand at Muninn. He fluttered angrily and flapped upward to land on Niko's bookcase.

Niko arched an eyebrow at me.

I jabbed a finger at him. "Don't even comment," I said, and then picked up Xolo and thrust the creature into Robin's lap. "Keep the cuddly weapon of mass destruction with you," I told him scathingly.

"Alas, _I_ am not his favorite," he said, grinning, but he did restrain the chupa from running to me again.

"I'm not his favorite. I don't _want_ to be his favorite. I'm not _anybody's_ favorite."

"Odin found you quite fascinating," Muninn cackled.

"Oh, fabulous, maybe Gandalf and I can start a book club once the world's not on the brink of destruction...Would you _stop!"_ I growled, smacking Niko's arm when he tried and failed to smother a laugh against his palm. I turned back to Muninn. "Where are the Vigil hiding?"

"I will guide you," the raven said, and flapped down to again land defiantly on my shoulder. He dipped his head toward the door, then pecked at my ear.

"Hang on one moment. There are matters I need to address," Niko said abruptly, and turned to Goodfellow. He crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes. "Am I correct in my understanding that you _knew_ all of this? You knew for years what Cal was to go through and you didn't tell me?"

I winced. I could practically _feel_ the rage radiating from my brother.

Robin blanched. He might've been thousands of years old, but Niko had him on the ropes with a few simple sentences. "I...uh..." he coughed, backed up a step, "You see...I wanted to tell you, but Caliban made me _promise_ , and then...I mean, it's not like I knew much at all, the kid wouldn't tell me anything either, and...oh hell. Merciful Charon, preserve me."

"Next time, _tell me_ ," Niko hissed, and turned away from him to glare at me. Shitshitshit. "And you," he said, reaching forward to smack the back of my skull, "Do not think for one damn second that I will let you off the hook so easily. I can only assume you've hit your head one too many times in the past week, otherwise you would have come to me and told me what was going on the moment you got back to the present. Never avoid me like that again."

I looked away. "I know. I shouldn't've, but I was just...I wanted you to be safe. I am sorry."

Niko studied me, and then nodded when he was satisfied. He tilted his head at the god. "And Loki...I want to thank you. For watching out for Cal when I couldn't."

I winced again, but Niko missed the expression as he had turned to face the god. I shrugged at Loki over his shoulder. _Yeah, thanks Loki. Thanks for agreeing to wait until after the world is safe again to drag me down to Helheim. How very considerate of you._

Loki shifted his weight, looking thoroughly uncomfortable. "Yeah," he muttered, and looked out the window. "Sure."

Muninn pecked at my shoulder impatiently. "Tick-tock, Auphe. Tick-tock."

"Yeah, yeah. Calm down, you hyperactive pigeon," I muttered, opening the door, "You keep that shit up and I'll pluck your feathers, stuff them into a pillow, and roast you for dinner."

Muninn bristled, but he didn't peck at my skin again. We locked up the apartment and went down to the street.

 **Please Review!**


	12. The Vigil

**Thanks for the feedback everyone! This chapter is _extremely_ long. I considered cutting it in half, but...I didn't. You're welcome. For those of you that are worried that things look bleak, keep in mind that I'm not a fan of deathfics, so Cal will ultimately figure a way to get himself out of this mess. Enjoy. **

Thanks entirely to Muninn's straightforward directions, we arrived at our destination in well under an hour. Oddly enough, cab drivers and pedestrians didn't take any notice of the giant talking bird perched on my shoulder. Everyone stared straight through him.

The Vigil's new headquarters turned out to be a farm on the outskirts of town. The property held a small cottage, a field of corn, several horses and cows grazing in a pasture, and a large red barn. It was unassuming in appearance, ordinary. I would never have given it a second glance.

I leaned against the fence and took a long whiff of the air. Under the usual smells of cow patties and dirt lurked sharper scents. Gunpowder, gasoline, and blood. So much blood. Hundreds of other smells, mainly unidentifiable but undeniably chemical, burned the back of my throat and made me cough. "Bingo," I said, and resumed breathing out my mouth instead. A cow glanced up with a chewing mouth full of grass and eyed me with detached interest.

"They are inside the barn. All three, and their experiments," Muninn told me, and then added, "You stink of rot that settles amidst the catacombs. Have yourself fitted for a suit and a coffin, traveler."

Niko's eyes snapped to the bird, and his lips tightened.

"Do we have a game plan here?" Goodfellow wisely interjected before Niko could attempt to cripple Odin's pet. He bent down and chiseled a chunk of mud from his shoe with a stick. "And if there is a plan, for the love of almighty Zeus tell me it is more crafty than your usual plans, Caliban."

I eyed him with blunted curiosity, and then glanced behind us. I couldn't see Xolo anywhere, and I wasn't entirely sure whether Robin had left the chupa back at the apartment or brought him along as an invisible shadow. To be honest, I didn't give two shits about it either way. The Puck had been watching the creepy mind controller for years now, and I trusted him completely to keep that up for another afternoon. It was merely a bonus that I didn't have to see or feel the thing clinging around my ankles.

"My plan?" I sneered, and beamed my psycho killer smile, my Auphe smile, the same smile that less than a year ago would have shown off rows of razor sharp teeth. I picked a loose piece of bark off the fence and tossed it at the cow as I fought to keep my raging emotions under control. "Simple. Kill those Vigil sons of bitches and blow every damn contraption and trinket they own so fucking sky high that satellites will record the blast as they rotate the Earth, and scientists will 'ooohh' and 'aahhh' like it's the singular most outlandish fireworks show they've ever glimpsed in their wretched lives."

"Eloquent," Loki said, hopping over the fence, "As always."

Niko climbed over the fence as well and then offered me a hand. He studied me as I stepped down, obviously not liking what he saw. "You truly look like hell, little brother. When was the last time you slept? Or ate?"

I shrugged. "Sleeping's overrated," I told him, watching the barn for movement, "And I drank some water a couple years ago, but in retrospect it's only been a few hours since then, so, yeah. I'm good."

Niko groaned and turned to Robin. "Tell me he isn't talking about visiting you."

"I gave him a glass of water," Goodfellow said defensively.

"You couldn't have fed him? Made him lie down? Perhaps have provided medical attention?"

"He only stayed for a few minutes and then gated out very mysteriously, leaving behind a new wretched pet to add to my _collection_ ," he turned briefly from Nik to glower at me, "Of ghastly beasts that he all too often deposits at my doorstep. My apartment is not a kennel, Cal."

"Smells like one," I snickered, glad for a brief change of subject.

Robin's eyes sparked fire. "If you _ever_ bring another supernatural fur ball to my apartment, Caliban, _ever_ , and I don't care why, I don't care if the world is falling apart and I am humanity's incredibly sexy final hope," he took a deep breath, "If you do that, just know that one morning you're going to wake up deep in the Amazon Rainforest, _naked,_ with raw slabs of beef and unidentifiable animal organs superglued to your chest and manhood. I'm sure you will enjoy fleeing from black caimans, jaguars, anacondas, and cougars, seeing as you are so very _fond_ of animals."

My mouth went dry. I cleared my throat and wordlessly stepped behind Niko.

Robin grinned wolfishly and turned back to my brother. "As I was saying, you know how stubborn he gets. What was I to do? Grill him a five star breakfast and then knock him out with a frying pan and drag him to your doorstep?"

"He doesn't eat anymore," Loki said, and began walking toward the barn through the cover of the cornfield. "Now let's go, you irritable invertebrates. Wine and blubber at a later date, preferably when I'm elsewhere and not forced to witness the despondency."

"What do you mean he doesn't eat anymore?" Niko demanded, his frown deepening.

"Guys. Focus. We're trying to kill the bad guys here," I interrupted, exasperated that Robin's distraction couldn't have lasted longer. I put a hand on Niko's back and gently pushed him so that we were moving forward.

He glared at me, but it was all worry and no anger. "Cal..."

"I'm okay, Nik. I'm just...dealing. Recovering. Taking things one day at a time. The fact that you're here..." I elbowed him affectionately, "It's a major help. Now focus. Please. Watch my back, but don't get distracted and let those half-brained screwballs kill you."

Robin shortened his steps so that he fell in pace beside us. He slung an arm over my shoulder. "I am having a difficult time fathoming that any of the Vigil still walk among the living," he said with disgust, ripping an ear of corn off a stalk with his free hand and tossing it to the side, "We were thorough. We were _careful._ I was under the impression that the only member still standing was Lazarus."

"We screwed up," I acknowledged bitterly, and then fell silent as we reached the barn. We crept against the side and inched forward toward the front. Muninn nipped at my ear, then flapped his wings and flew upward onto the roof. I watched him go, then pulled out my Desert Eagle. Without warning, the door swung outwards. We pressed flat against the side of the barn to stay hidden, and I peeked an eye across the corner so that I could see what we were dealing with.

It was Samuel. The holier-than-thou, deceitful, traitorous wannabe guitarist himself. Alive. On a goddamn _farm._ How? How the fuck did he get to live while I'd spent most traumatizing week of my destitute life trying to clean up after his irresponsible, hypocritical ass? This was the dick that had set a time-traveling god loose on the unsuspecting past, given him free reign to slaughter humanity, and for what? To kill me? How did you justify that? Yeah, let's send a psychotic god back to kill demonic little Cal, 'cause _he's_ the biggest damn threat to the universe because he _loves his brother._

If there had been any remnants of food left in my stomach, I would have vomited until my intestines were coiled in the dirt. Instead, I clutched my fingers so tightly around my gun that if I hadn't been wearing my Auphe glove I would have needed stitches. I compelled myself to stay hidden as Samuel strolled the short distance to the cottage and slipped inside the door.

Loki stepped back. He had shared the corner with me, so he had seen Samuel as I had. Now he studied my expression with something akin to grudging respect. "You regard that man the same as I survey the gods that cursed my children and cast me aside. You hold no love for him."

"Understatement of the decade," I spat, glancing at Niko. He hadn't seen, but with one look at my face he knew. I turned back to Loki. "The others. In the barn. I can _smell_ them," I seethed.

He understood. He tilted his head at me, and then as he turned he shifted into Samuel and strode with a confident gait into the barn. I waited thirty seconds and then followed with the others. As soon as I crossed the threshold the stinking reek of a slaughterhouse smacked me full in the face, and I was once again glad that I'd sworn off food forever.

The room was cold and lit with florescent light that illuminated every inch of horror. There were rows of tables with knives and test tubes, and dozens of refrigerators filled with packs of blood and other fluids. A wall of photographs loomed in front of us, each picture depicting a particular paien, all linked with different color string. There were several computers, there were crates full of explosives and guns stacked in a corner, and there were bodies. And bodies. _And bodies._ Nearly every type of supernatural creature I'd ever met, all stacked and mutilated, shoved into glass cells of liquid and hooked up to tubes and beeping machines.

For once in his life, Goodfellow was rendered speechless.

Loki lurked behind the cooling corpses of the two fallen Vigil members. Blood seeped from their slit throats and pooled around his leather shoes, but he didn't notice. He only had eyes for the wretched chaos surrounding us.

"They're playing god," I said, and didn't even fight it as the insane laugh slipped through my lips once again, "The fuckers hate anything supernatural, yet here they are, playing god."

Niko slid a hand to rest it against my back. His fingers shook minutely, and he curled them into my jacket. I knew what he was thinking. The Vigil had been dissecting every known type of paien they could get their greasy hands on. And guess what? I was the last living Auphe. If the Vigil hadn't hated the entire species so much, _I_ would've been trapped in here somewhere, strapped to a table, experimented on until there was nothing left of me to take. _My_ blood could have been part of the cocktail that ran through Lazarus' veins.

The door swung open. "Okay boys, I found the..." Samuel trailed off as he saw us, and halted mid-step. His gaze fell on the fellow Vigil members bleeding on the tile floor, and his lip curled ruefully. "Oh. It's you," he sighed, tossing a flash drive onto the nearest table. "Alive, I see."

"I'm hanging in there," I ground out, holding my gun loosely at my side.

"How did you kill him? Lazarus?" Samuel asked, slipping his blood splattered lab coat off his shoulders and hanging it on a hook. "You should not have been able to do it. We made certain that he was all but invincible. And you have no alliances, I mean, it's not as though we are granting you..." he tilted his head at Niko and rolled his eyes in exasperation, " _Favors_ anymore. No. Nothing of that vile degradation ever again."

I couldn't believe it. He was actually _questioning_ me. Like I was just another part of his experiment, like he found me _entertaining._ I almost expected him to pick up a clipboard and start taking notes.

"You crazed son of a bitch," Robin spat, "What happened to you?"

Samuel shook his head. "You don't get it. The chaos before you, the gory carnage in progress, this is all unavoidable. If we humans are to reclaim our world, we need to take the supernatural community down once and for all. Keep them contained. These measures will allow us to do just that."

The self-righteous grate of his voice was giving me a headache. I took a step forward, and Niko let me go. "I'm curious. Are you _aware_ that you and your buddies put the blood of Tyr into your reckless Lazarus experiment?"

He flung his hands up and shrugged. "What can I say? The Auphe are resilient, incredibly difficult to kill. We took a calculated risk."

"A _risk?_ Your so-called savior has been killing everything that crosses his path, hell bent on ending the world so that he can judge mankind. Meanwhile, you sit here in your mad scientist laboratory, slicing people apart and playing with genetics, and you have the balls to point fingers and say that _I'm_ the villain?"

"These are not people. Not human," Samuel snarled with conviction, " _You_ are not human. We did what we needed to do."

"He's more human than you'll ever be, you fucking piece of shit," Niko growled, every word as sharp and cutting as glass.

"Tell me there's a way to shut Lazarus down, Samuel," I said, stepping even closer, "Tell me you lot of looney sheep were intelligent enough to at least plan ahead and integrate an off switch or weakness into his DNA."

He laughed like I'd hit him with the greatest joke he'd ever heard. "Off switch? Lazarus is a _weapon._ You want to turn him off, kiddo? Man up and let him kill the younger you as we intended. Then he will cease to exist, as without you we would never have needed him in the first place. Do the world a favor and let him fulfill his purpose."

My stomach twisted into a knot and then flip-flopped miserably. I hadn't been optimistic about the Vigil having the ability to shut down Lazarus, but now I knew for certain. If Odin didn't have any brilliant ideas about killing Tyr when I returned to the past, I was screwed. _Screwed_.

"How many of these abominations have you manufactured? Other than Tyr?" Loki spoke, stepping forward beside me to voice his own concern, "How many?"

Samuel stayed silent.

"How _many?"_ Loki snarled, his voice deepening to an inhuman growl.

"None," he said dismissively, gesturing lazily around the room, "The rest, as you can easily see, are works in progress. Many are nearly finished, but that doesn't matter. Kill me if you want, but Lazarus still lives," he said with conviction, and sharpened his gaze on me, "I _know_ he's still alive because you can't kill him, Cal. You'll die, and I? I'll be back, alive and unharmed, with the rest of the Vigil. It's our destiny. So go ahead, do your thing, blast away with that idiot gun of yours or blow me up in one of those fiery explosions you're so goddamn fond of. You can even borrow some of our explosives if you want. They're stacked neatly right over there. Alphabetized. Have at it. You'll still fucking lose, you damn freak."

I opened a gate inside of him. His chest exploded outward in a cloud of splattered blood, organs, and bone fragments. For a long moment he remained upright, an empty shell with a twitching mouth and gaping eyes, and then he toppled like a puppet deprived of strings. I stared down at the carnage impassively. No thanks, you traitorous snake. No guns or explosions this time, just me. Just the Auphe way. That's what you wanted, isn't it? Me, the monster. Well here I am, you bastard. Finally out of my cocoon and ready to play, and you can't fucking keep up.

Samuel and his Vigil had been nothing but copycats. They'd been silly little children playing with things they didn't understand, and then wham! Surprise! Jokes on them, 'cause they went ahead and copied the exact strategy of what they'd hated most: the Auphe. Standing in that slaughterhouse, with the overbearing scents of death and bloody torture swarming around me, the notion was enough to make me want to start laughing and never stop, never breathe again. Because wasn't _I_ the first experiment? The original weapon? The Auphe had tried for years to create me, and they'd finally succeeded. They'd made me, they'd kidnapped me, tortured me, held me against my will for years. And here I stood again, in the same goddamn place, in the Vigil's sorry excuse for Tumulus, still smack dab in the damn middle of everything.

Niko's fingers curled tightly around my wrist, and I realized with a jolt that a strained laugh was tearing from my throat. I clamped my mouth shut and yanked my arm from his grasp. Suddenly, it was all too much. "I'm going outside. Someone else deal with this. I just...I can't right now," I said hoarsely, suffocating beneath the stench of death. I strode out the door without a backwards glance.

I took off running, faster than I'd ever run before. This wasn't the haphazard gait I employed when Niko forced me to exercise, or the intense sprint I used when I had to evade creatures that wanted to gnaw on my bones for lunch. This was entirely new. My brain shut down, leaving no room for any conception of why I was running or how long I'd been running, only that I had to get away. Far away.

Footsteps thudded behind me, nearly even with mine. "Cal! Stop!"

I didn't stop. I wouldn't. My feet kept moving, one stride after the next, like a machine. Like nothing but a savage killing machine.

Niko tackled me from the side, and we fell in a tangled heap onto overgrown weeds. He sprawled on top of me, breathing hard and coughing. How fast had we been running for _him_ to be out of breath? That was impossible.

"I'm done, I'm done, I'm so fucking _done,_ Nik," I moaned, fighting back the urge to shove him off and bolt again. The sky above us was blue, bright blue like the time he and I had jumped from the hospital roof. Everything had been so much simpler back then. Impossibly so. I covered my eyes with the hand that wasn't pinned underneath Niko's torso so that I wouldn't have to see that damn cheerful sky mocking me.

He dragged in several more gulps of air, then shifted as though to sit up but thought better of it slumped back where he was instead. "I'm here. I've got you."

This time the bitter laugh died before it could breech my lungs. "For what? A few hours?"

Niko flinched as though I'd slapped him.

"And then what?" I continued in a voice that didn't even sound like me anymore, "We split up. We have to fucking _split up_ , Nik."

"Cal, don't."

"And after that, well, it's a colossal toss up at that point. Maybe you'll die, _again_ , because you keep _doing that,_ or maybe I'll travel back without you and Tyr will slit my throat ear to ear-"

"Stop it."

"-and sip my blood out of a fancy martini glass stuffed to the brim with gourmet olives so he can have Auphe abilities, or-"

" _Be silent_ ," Niko ground out through clenched teeth.

"Or, _maybe_ , and this is all the more likely, our little band of heroes storming the past with toothpick swords and pellet guns will fail to kill Tyr-"

"Cal! For the love of all that is holy, I'm going to-"

"-because he's a _god_ , and he'll murder mini-me, and I'll never even have existed, but hey, I guess that's a good thing-"

Niko leapt off of me and grabbed a fistful of my shirt to heave me upwards so that we were eyelevel. "Will you keep your deranged mouth shut!" he hissed furiously, shaking me, his face red and splotchy from either chasing after me or battling to conceal unimaginable fury.

Any additional words caught in my throat and I swallowed them back with a sob. The fight drained out of me and I slumped dazedly against him. "I'm sorry," I whispered, looping my fingers around his wrists. "I didn't mean that, I...I'm just so confused, I'm going out of my mind, and...damn it, I'm so sorry."

He exhaled and let me go, then wordlessly wrapped his arms around my back.

I reached behind him and tugged gently on his braid. "We're never going to see each other again, Cyrano," I said tiredly. "Never."

He remained silent. Didn't rebuke me, didn't say I was wrong, that it wasn't true. He just knelt there in the grass and held me, bringing me back to sanity like only he could. "Well then, at least we have a couple hours," he said, repeating my earlier words with tolerant affection. He pulled back and ruffled my hair like he had when we were children, brushing the mess out of my eyes. "Let's go home, Cal."

I sighed deeply and gated us back to the apartment. The familiar smell of the place curled reassuringly around me as Niko pulled me upwards and onto the couch. I sank back into the cushions and didn't look at the clock. Time wasn't a friend to me these days. The feeling must have been mutual, because Niko yanked the device off the wall and threw it as hard as he could against the wall. Glass shattered, and the traitorous machine clunked heavily to the floor and skidded underneath the bookcase.

I smirked as he immediately continued into the kitchen and tossed his watch into the sink. "Isn't that waterproof?"

"Water resistant, actually, but not indefinitely," he said, and began pulling items out of the cupboards.

I groaned. "Nik..."

He leaned over the counter, propping his head up on one elbow as he tapped his fingers testily against the marble. "If you can recall exactly when and where you previously consumed food, _solid_ food, specifically, then I will leave you alone. Now, when did you last eat?"

"That's not even _fair_...I mean..." I groaned, knowing full well that I'd been beaten. "Crap. You're impossible. Fine, I surrender, but none of your wheatgrass rubbish. I'd rather die." I watched as he poured cereal into a bowl and brought it over. He placed the bowl on my lap and settled down beside me. I raised an eyebrow at him. "Cinnamon Toast Crunch? I'm appalled that you have this in your organic pantry. Maybe a little proud."

"I am certain you will survive," he said, words saturated with double meaning. "Now eat, or I will force it down your throat. I've had years of practice. As I recall, you were always quite fond of the 'here comes the airplane' approach."

It wasn't an idle threat, so I picked up the spoon and shoveled a few of the sugary squares into my mouth. As I chewed I used my sleeve to wipe sweat off my forehead. The adrenaline that had kept me running was already fading, leaving me with a gnawing ache in my stomach. I _was_ actually hungry. Starving, even. "Happy?" I asked, accidently spraying him with errant particles of food before swallowing. "And I thought you were always better at imitating a train. Very animated, if I remember right."

"You shouldn't remember at all. You were a toddler," he said wryly, and kicked my ankle, "Now focus on chewing and keep your mouth shut before you choke."

I grinned and risked another bite, which stayed down.

A few moments later Loki and Robin appeared in the room. Robin arched an eyebrow at the nearly full bowl of cereal on my lap and turned to Niko. "Hermes' gleaming biceps, did you just get here? How long did it take you to catch him?"

Niko shrugged self-consciously and pressed his lips together, looking flustered at the inquiry. "An hour at least."

My jaw dropped. "Seriously?" I said, the food all but forgotten, "But I'm _slow_."

"You are not _slow_ ," Niko chided me, flicking his finger against the side of my bowl, "That said, _you_ , as you are now, I could catch easily. But you've always been faster as Caliban, and that's how it was this afternoon."

I frowned and tried to remember. It was all a blur, but he was right. I'd been scared, I'd been angry, and I'd been Auphe. "You still caught me," I said, impressed.

"Of course I did. Back at the barn, you were so..." he faltered and ran out of words. He shook his head, changing direction, "I always catch you, Cal. It's not a big deal."

"Speaking of the barn," Loki broke in, stealing a handful of sugary cereal from my bowl and shoving it into his mouth, "It's done."

I met his gaze. "Burned?"

Loki flung his hands out, mimicking an explosion equipped with corny sound effects.

I paused, spoon halfway to my mouth. A couple days ago, even the impression of an explosion would have made me completely lose my shit. It would have left me puking, staring off into space, trapped inside a traumatic memory. But now...

"Outstanding. Maybe you're not a complete deadbeat after all, shithead."

He sneered and then left to rummage the cabinets for snacks.

Time ticked by slowly as the four of us sat around the apartment for a few hours, not saying much, not planning anything, just...existing. Words would have made everything seem final, and none of us wanted that. Except Loki. I wasn't sure what he wanted, aside from eternal glory and my severed head on a stick.

I think it was Robin that turned the television on at some point, left it on some movie I'd never seen. Some guy was darting from country to country, shooting everything, blowing things up. The women he encountered were all impossibly gorgeous and provocative, and he kept losing his shirt and his guns. Typical stuff.

During a particularly absurd car chase, Loki stood and made his way to the door. "We have half an hour," he said pointedly, and departed.

Half an hour. Unbidden, my thoughts rewound to a week ago and I tried to remember what I'd been doing with this time, this glorious thirty minute period that proceeded the end of everything. I tried to remember if I'd enjoyed it, reveled in every second. I doubted it. Although...

I reached across Robin and fumbled for the remote, effectively hitting the power button on nearly the fifth try. Sure enough, in the silence that followed I could hear footsteps plodding up the staircase, followed by the scrape of a key in the lock. "Pretty sure that's me," I said apprehensively.

"Undoubtedly. I recognize the telltale ear-splitting clatter vaulting up the staircase, enough to wake the seven sleepers from Ephesus," Robin said slyly, and placed a hand against my elbow. "No need to gate, I have made certain he will not notice us," he assured me, and as he spoke the words Xolo became visible from where he rested on my lap. On my goddamn _lap._

"For fuck's sake, Goodfellow," I hissed, pushing the creature off my legs. The chupa landed hard on the floor and turned to eye me with gloomy dejection just as _he_ opened the door and strode inside, tossing his keys heavily onto the counter as he passed.

Holy hell.

I'd spent the last week bitching at the bratty, stupid, selfish kid I'd been at eighteen. He'd denied forcibly, _angrily_ , that he and I were the same, and yet here he was. Mini-me was all grown up, and he was finally exactly what he had feared most. He was _me_ _._ Clueless and hungry and miraculously more happy than not. I wasn't sure whether to feel sorry for the guy or laugh in his face the next time I saw him.

"Well, at the very least I don't have to worry about accidently running into my mother and having her fall in love with me," I muttered, trying to conceal my cracked composure with humor as I listened to him scrounge around in my bedroom. His bedroom. Whatever. I remembered now, some sloshed jackass had slipped and dumped a pint of beer all down my front ten minutes before my shift ended, and I'd gone home to change.

In the memory I had believed myself to be quiet. Composed. In reality, the noise pouring from my room sounded like a hurricane having a clandestine romp with an earthquake, a myriad of slamming drawers and stomping boots. I smirked, staring down at my knees. Did I always sound like that?

Robin poked my side. "I'm no Lorraine, but if you're feeling cheated and want some action..."

" _Nooo_ ," I emphasized, scowling as I shoved him away.

Cal lumbered back into the living room, shrugging on a different jacket. I glimpsed his arm, still wrapped in the Kyntalash, but unmarred. Whole.

Niko looked between the two of us. His face was the embodiment of misery, which meant he really felt exponentially worse. "What if we tell-"

"Nope," I interrupted him softly, "No can do, Nik. This entire catastrophe of a day has to play out."

I watched the poor bastard snatch his keys up off the counter and then leave, slamming the door behind him.

I dropped my head into my lap and rested it there, squeezing my eyes shut, dreading what had to come next.

"It'll be okay, kid. You'll see. This will all work out," Robin assured me, placing a cool hand briefly against my neck. I watched through long strands of black hair as he leaned forward and picked up the chupacabra. "Alright Xolo, you pesky flea-ridden goat humper," he began, staring intently at the creature.

My brow furrowed, sending creases down my forehead. "Goodfellow, what..."

He smiled toothily down at me, then continued speaking to the chupa. "Erase every horrid recollection of you from my mind, starting from the godforsaken night when Cal was audacious enough to drop you off like unwanted baggage on my doorstep-"

"Robin?"

"-And also erase this disastrous afternoon, fill it with a different, exhilarating, perhaps even sexy memory of your choosing. Surprise me, you smelly sack of fur, but make sure I go directly to the bar," he finished, and reached over to ruffle my hair affectionately.

I stretched out a hand to grip his wrist, but my friend's eyes were already clouding over, filling with confusion. Xolo jumped lightly off his lap onto the coffee table and settled there, watching us. As quick as that, it was done. Robin stood, tugging away from my grip as he stretched. His eyes drifted lazily over the apartment, staring right through Niko and me. He walked out the door without a backwards glance.

I groaned and shut my eyes again. Idiot Puck. He'd known exactly how much I hated this part of the plan, and he'd mind controlled himself to spare me that. Goddamn it, what had I ever done to deserve a friend like that?

I hesitated, half desiring to sprint down the stairs after him while the other half knew that this was exactly what had to happen. To him. To Nik. My stomach flopped.

"Only he would request a 'sexy' memory," Niko spoke wryly, breaking me out of my pessimistic funk.

"One crafted by the blood-drinker himself, to boot," I agreed, and laughed, "Do you think Xolo even understands sexy? Has he had sexy experiences?" I glanced at the chupa, unnerved to find him staring me down once more from his perch on the table. "God, I hope not. There's no way that thing gets more action than me."

Niko snorted. "I'm certain he abstains, little brother." He allowed me a few more seconds pause before he gripped me by my shoulders and made me sit back against the couch. I breathed out nervously, nausea curling in the pit of my stomach as I brushed hair out of my eyes.

"You _can_ do this," Niko said gently, seemingly able to read my thoughts. He sounded calm, but the frightened gleam in his eyes, the tight clench of his jaw, betrayed him. He was terrified for me. He'd promised earlier that he'd let this happen, but it was obviously taking every ounce of rigid self control he had to follow through with that promise.

"I don't want to," I admitted, knowing that I was probably making things worse but unable to stop myself, "I just got you back, Nik. I don't want to lose you again."

His grip on my shoulder intensified. "This is merely a brief separation. That's all," he paused, and it felt like he was trying to convince himself as much as me, "The Vigil are all dead. The explosion you remember isn't real, so Robin and I won't die," he said, and shook me hard for emphasis, "And neither will you."

I said nothing.

He groaned deep in his throat and pulled me into a quick hug. "I know you, Cal. I've seen you fight. You can win. They're just gods."

I snorted. Just gods? _Just_ gods? He said it so flippantly, too, like I was off to do battle with some pesky teenage shoplifters at the mall. Just gods? Jesus. Whatever worldview my brother had, I wanted in. "Of course I'll win," I drawled, face pressed against his shoulder. "Just gods, right? Practically a dime a dozen, nothing special there. Now...look at Xolo."

I pulled away but kept a hand clenched around his arm. He grinned at me to continue. I grinned back, but it was hands down the fakest grin in the history of all fake grins. Someone get me a gold medal, stat. "Xolo. I need you to...just..." I began, and faltered.

"Do not permit the chupacabra to fabricate any sexy experiences for me, please," Niko teased lightly, trying to ease my inner struggle.

I shook my head in exasperation, and something closer to a real grin tugged at my lips. "You're such an idiot," I muttered, and flicked his forehead. I turned back to the creature and spoke quickly before I lost my nerve. "Xolo, make Nik forget all about what happened this afternoon. Make him forget seeing me. Have him go directly to the Ninth Circle."

Niko jerked and inhaled sharply. I averted my eyes because I didn't want to watch his go blank like Robin's had earlier, but when he tugged at my sleeve I relented.

"Cal. S'okay," he choked out, trying to smile. For me.

Here he was, my brother, in the thrall of mind control, and he was fighting through it to reassure me.

I couldn't do this. I couldn't. Fuck.

Niko lost the battle and his gray eyes went blank. He stood up, dragging me along with him as I refused to relinquish my grip on his shirt.

"No. Nonononono," I whimpered, and made a quick decision. A rash decision. Unwise, possibly. Fuck it, I was entitled. "I take that back. Xolo, I take it back," I said, flinging both arms around my brother to stop him from walking away. "Give him back the memory."

For a moment I panicked that it wouldn't work, but then Niko gasped in a shuddering breath and blinked hard before focusing on me again. "Cal?" His voice was desperate, lost. Like he'd woken from a nightmare and couldn't distinguish what was real.

I nodded. "Yeah. It's me, big brother," I assured him. I let go of his shirt and tried to smooth down the rumpled fabric. "I changed my mind. We're staying together, for a little while longer. Until I have to travel back with Loki to kill Tyr."

His brow furrowed, and he shook his head as though trying to chase away invisible cobwebs.

I put a hand on his arm to steady him and then answered the unspoken question in his eyes. "The way I see it, as long as you don't actually interfere with the other me, it won't screw anything up. I'll have Xolo make mini-me see you sitting in the bar like I remember. He's the critter king of hallucinations, so one more mind warp won't be that hard," I said brazenly, and clenched my hands into fists at my sides, "If anyone protests, _anyone,_ Loki, Odin, whoever, I don't fucking care. I'm not going to just abandon you in the present without any notion of why the hell I disappeared. That's not...that's not _fair_. You deserve to remember."

He breathed out in relief, finally seeming to get his bearings back. "Thank you," he said softly, and then gritted his teeth. "The idea that you would just be _gone_..." he trailed off, and laughed bitterly, "You have not the slightest notion how near I came to knocking your stubborn ass unconscious to keep you here, consequences be damned."

I smirked. "You didn't, though. I'm impressed. If our roles had been reversed..." I shrugged, leaving the answer hanging in the air between us. "But then again you always were gifted with extraordinary self control. You got all the stable human genetic stuff. I just punch things, and then shoot them. Repeatedly," I said, and slid my phone out of my pocket to check the time. We had less than ten minutes till show time, and I still had to talk to the pizza guy and give him Robin's letter. I scooped up Xolo under one arm and nudged my brother. "Come on. Time to conjure up some explosive hallucinations and permanently traumatize myself."

Niko sighed, clearly distressed by my choice of words.

I gated us to the street outside the Ninth Circle.

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	13. The Ninth Circle

**Hey everyone! Thank you for your reviews, they always make my day! Sorry I missed a week, my little brother got married and I was in charge of making their wedding cake and over 150 cupcakes, so my apartment was temporarily a bakery. :) I'm back though, so enjoy this next installment.**

We came out of the gate shadowed by the grimy paneled façade of the pizza truck. The traitorous aroma of pepperoni and sausage slapped me in the face the moment we arrived, like an unwanted greeting from my own personal hell. I clenched my jaw so tightly that I nearly knocked a few teeth loose.

Loki lounged back against the metal truck as he bit the pizza slice he was holding nearly in half and chewed. He gave me a thumbs up, then looked at Niko and rolled his eyes skyward, swallowed. "I figured I'd be seeing you here, Leandros," he said, amused, "You two are essentially linked at the hip. It's adorable." He took another bite, smaller this time, and then when he looked at me he had already shifted into Goodfellow's form. "You just going to stand there and mope? We have a measly few minutes remaining, Aupheling. Give me the letter."

He looked like Robin, sounded like Robin. _Wasn't_ Robin. It just wasn't fair. I scowled and thrust the envelope into his free hand. "Enjoying yourself, fatty?"

The god finished the slice and loudly sucked the grease off his fingers. "Immensely. Thank you for the inquiry. Linger here, I'll go talk to the help."

He walked out of sight around the front of the truck. I watched him go, and my eyes roamed unbidden to linger on the Ninth Circle. It looked as it always had, whole and unburnt. It didn't matter. I could still see the ghost of flames shooting upward into the sky.

"Cal," Niko said softly.

I slanted my eyes to look at him. He appeared...worried. I frowned and glanced down at my hands; they were shaking. Not wildly or anything like that. It wasn't obvious. But _still_. Goddamn it was I fed up with being a high-strung basket case all the damn time. I clenched my hands into fists and forced myself to breathe, to calm down.

He clasped his hand on my good shoulder, so tight that it was painful. I focused on the pain to bring me out of the swirl of rotten memories. "I'm just peachy, I swear," I lied fervently, shifting my grip on Xolo as he squirmed.

"You are not, and your attempts at lying are atrocious. I have no idea why you even _try_ ," Niko corrected exasperatedly, "But I'm right here, with you. I'm fine. _You_ are fine. Take deep breaths. Fish sticks and cartoons, remember?"

I smirked, and the phantom fire dimmed as I pulled myself back into reality. "Damn right," I told him gratefully, and redirected my attention as Loki's voice cut through the air.

"Hey kid," the trickster said lazily, "I need you to do me a favor. Think you can manage that?"

I leaned against the truck and bit back a groan. I didn't even know the balaur past the occasional curt greeting, but even I knew that wasn't going to cut it, even if Loki _was_ wearing Goodfellow's face. Money would've worked. Words? Not so much. "We're doomed," I shot at Niko, and gave his ankle a light kick. "I'm pretty sure Loki usually stabs people if he doesn't get his way."

Nik sighed and leaned beside me. "Lovely. Let's try to avoid that."

"I'm busy, Puck," the teenage snake in the food truck said disdainfully, "Either buy something or shove off."

"Yes yes, _obviously_ your pizza slicing life is infinitely taxing," Loki said testily, "You have my deepest sympathy. That said, here is, oh, a hundred dollar bill, fresh from the bank. Smell the possibilities, if you will. Now..." he trailed off, leaving the invitation hanging.

There was a pause, during which I silently applauded the use of cash and urged Loki to hurry the fuck up.

"Okay, I'll play. What do you want?"

"I assure you, the task is quite simple. I need you to deliver a letter..." he trailed off, and there was a rustle of paper and cloth, " _This_ letter, to Caliban. You remember him, I am sure. Black hair, pale skin, gloomy expression, has this uncanny ability to rip tears in the fabric of reality."

"He ordered pizza for tonight. He's _late_."

"Isn't he always? Poor bastard's got a lot on his mind. Here's another fifty, and for god's sake get yourself a decent hair cut and a shave. Now listen. You know Cal's always been a bit...out of his head. The whole Auphe thing, what with them trying to kill him for years, coupled with the fact that his DNA is a time bomb that's inevitably going to result in him snapping and destroying half the city...well, you know the gist."

"That _bastard_ ," I muttered grimly, biting back the urge to gate him into a million pieces, "Nik, kindly remind me _why_ I haven't killed the son of a bitch yet."

"Something to do with your good nature, I'm sure," Niko replied, grinning slightly. Actually _grinning_. I scowled.

"Well I'm glad _someone_ finds this all really fucking hilari-" I grunted and cut off as he elbowed me.

"Anyway, he's about to show up here for pizza and absolutely lose his shit. Scream at the heavens, throw himself on the ground and cry, hyperventilate as he stares blankly into space. You know how dramatic he gets. Whatever he does, just stand back a safe distance and wait till he finishes and then hand him my letter. You can even eat his pizza if you want, god knows he isn't going to touch it. Understand?"

"Whatever."

"Excellent. You're a decent reptilian kid, got that? Don't let anyone tell you differently. And remember to get that haircut, okay? On all three heads. Frequent showers wouldn't hurt either if you're trying to impress the ladies. You got a girl?"

"...no."

"As I anticipated. Yes, showers. Lots of showers, and soap. You'll do alright."

Loki sauntered around the back of the truck and nodded smugly at me. I wasn't about to admit it, but he did pull off a descent impression of Robin. "We're good to go," he said, taking off his sunglasses to wipe them on his shirt. "You got the chupacabra all prepped and ready?"

I glowered at him and raised an eyebrow. "Completely insane, am I? Going to destroy half the city?"

"To be fair, I only said half. That's giving you way more credit than most would."

"Oh _thank you_ ," I shot back sarcastically, "That makes me feel loads better. Only _half_ the city. You've got me drowning in oodles of warm fuzzy feelings."

He smiled. "Excellent. I am exceedingly gladdened. Do I have time to consume another piece of pizza?"

"No," I said shortly, and shifted the chupa in my arms. "Xolo, make it so no one can see us," I ordered him, and then led the others around the front of the truck so that we had full view of the bar one block away. I turned to Nik. "The other me has to see you at the bar when he arrives and Xolo can only do his thing if he's making eye contact. I'll be right back."

"No need," Loki broke in before I could gate, "I can stand in for the older brother. I'd rather relax and knock back liquor than watch this melancholy shindig go down anyway."

That was more than fine by me. "Have at it, then," I said, and gestured toward the bar.

Loki grinned, and suddenly there were two Nikos. "Have fun screwing yourself over," he said in my brother's voice, and then turned on his heel and headed for the bar.

Niko stared after him, eyes narrowed. "That is...unnerving."

"Unnerving? No. Twigs snapping in the dark forest are unnerving. Mummy cats are unnerving. The word you're looking for here is freaky, Cyrano. Freaky as hell. But I think I'm getting used to it," I admitted, flinching as mini-me rounded the corner and made a beeline for the Ninth Circle. My stomach flopped. "Nik..."

"Whatever ill-conceived notion you are about to spout, don't bother," he chided preemptively.

I dipped my head. "No, you don't understand, I just...I remember how this goes down. Trust me. You don't want to watch this."

"You don't want to relive this, but here we are," Niko said grimly, his eyes dark as he poked my side. "Quit telling me to leave. I'm not going anywhere. All this repetition is making me sound like a broken record."

Cal opened the door and walked inside the bar. My heart pounded. Any second now. Any second...

The gray swirling gate gouged across the space beside us, and Cal stepped through. He walked right up to the truck and leaned against the window ledge. "Hey. How much do I owe you?"

The teenager peered out of his hooded raincoat, a strange glint in his eye. Apprehensive in a way I hadn't noticed the first time around. "Fifteen bucks."

Cal dug in his wallet and slapped twenty-five dollars into the scaled hand. "Keep it," he said, and picked up the two boxes of pizza.

"This is it," I breathed. _I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry._ "Make him hear the screech and crunch of a metal car wreck. When he turns, let him see a panel truck half embedded in the bar, blocking the door."

Cal blinked, turned. Stared at the bar, eyes amused for a moment before he turned back around to adjust his grip on the boxes. He turned back around and walked several steps.

I stepped up next to him, lengthening my stride to match his so that I could carry out my task as his own personal nightmare. "A flash of light from the bar. Fire. Flames spiraling upward around the first floor of the bar, incinerating everyone inside."

He stopped dead in his tracks, eyes wide, mouth slack, more pale than I'd ever been in twenty-six years. The boxes slid from his hands as he gaped in horrified disbelief, and I wanted to throw up. I knew what he saw, and I wanted to stop. I needed to stop.

I _couldn't_ stop.

"Heat so intense that it knocks him back," I continued, and waited as he fell hard, grimacing as he pushed himself back up on shaking elbows. "So much fire. So much goddamn fire, leaping higher and higher, enough heat that it feels like his face is being seared off," I stopped, took a breath, felt Niko beside me, _knew_ he was beside me, but it didn't mean squat.

"A second explosion, streaming upward to set heaven on fire. When he breathes, he breathes in charred flesh of wolves, vampires, Nik, Robin," I said, and watched him take that breath. He gagged, coughed.

"Robin's dead," I said mercilessly in his ear, crouched down beside him, "Niko's dead. Niko's dead. Niko's dead."

" _Cal,"_ Nik whispered hoarsely, distraught enough that he didn't realize he was gripping my bad arm. "Stop."

I didn't look at him. "Niko's _dead_ ," I enunciated clearly, watching my own eyes overflow with unimaginable pain and desperation and _loss._

Who was the broken record now?

"Your life is over," I told him, watching as the despair in his eyes fade and morph into something else.

He tugged out his Desert Eagle.

"No," Niko moaned shakily, realization dawning in his eyes. "Oh god. No. Cal, _no_."

I watched in a detached haze as he positioned the gun under his chin. His finger tightened on the trigger...

The pizza guy was going to give him the letter now.

Soon.

Any second.

"Cal!" Nik erupted, putting himself in between me and the bar and shaking me, hard, "That's enough! For god's sake, make him stop!"

"Don't do it," I said quickly, and exhaled in relief as he eased off on the trigger. The teenage snake still hadn't stepped forward. Another wave of nausea hit me as a new epiphany slapped me in the face. Cal had almost pulled that trigger. He _would_ have pulled it, if Niko hadn't been there.

It hadn't been the pizza guy that had saved me. It had been Nik.

"Caliban, Goodfellow. He left this for you," the balaur said finally, his three heads speaking at once. When Cal didn't move he dropped the gold envelope on his lap.

I tore my eyes away from Cal, kneeling on the pavement with the gun pressed against his chin, to glare unseen at the hooded snake. And I thought _I_ was inhumanly cold-hearted. Talk about waiting until the last possible second to intervene.

Cal hesitated for a moment, still lost under a wave of despair, finger still on the trigger. He took another breath, coughed, and seemed to wrench himself out of his cocoon of destitution for long enough to let the gun drop to his side as he stared at the unopened letter.

Niko sagged against me. "You _idiot_ ," he groaned, weakly slapping a fist against my chest. "Goddamn it, Cal. What if he had pulled the trigger? What I hadn't..." he shook his head, as though trying to clear the image from his mind. "You'd be _dead."_

He was right, of course. I shivered.

The teenager stooped and fished a piece of pepperoni pizza out of the open box near Cal's leg, and then backed away, disinterested in any further proceedings. I stared at him in distain. What had crawled up his ass and died? I'd tipped that guy for years, been a good customer, and for what? Maybe I should've made him see _his_ truck burn to the ground.

Cal still hadn't let go of the gun, which dangled from his fingers against the pavement. Niko let go of me to kneel beside him, and pried the Eagle gently from his fingers. Cal let it go, and then reached for the letter, ripped it open.

"It's okay," Niko whispered into Cal's ear, hand pressed reassuringly against his back as he read, "It's okay. I'm not dead. You're going to see me again soon. It's okay."

A lump grew in my throat. Nik had been there, _right there_ , when I'd believed him to be a charred pile of ash buried in the wreck of the bar. I hadn't known, hadn't had the heart to even _hope_ such an impossibility, and from the bleak, dead shine in Cal's gray eyes, he didn't either.

Xolo squirmed again in my arms, obviously tiring of being held. I fought the urge to smash his skull in with a rock. He couldn't help what he was, what he could do, but he was responsible for this.

 _I_ was responsible.

I pushed that dark thought as far back into the recesses of my mind as I could and climbed slowly to my feet. "Nik," I said, putting a hand on his shoulder, "He'll be fine. We have to go."

Niko clenched his jaw and didn't budge. "Seeing as he is going to be _you_ , and your arm is falling off, you will have to forgive me if I don't find that highly reassuring."

I scoffed. "My arm isn't falling off. There's bone and muscle holding it firmly to the joint. See?" I raised it above my head and moved it around a bit. The lack of pain or feeling of any kind was disconcerting, but whatever. I sure as hell wasn't about to mention a silly little detail like that.

He arched an eyebrow. Skeptical as always.

"What? You wanna see more? Want me to flail my arms around like I'm the Black Swan in that one ballet where the chick goes whacko? 'Cause I will, you know, if it'd help. Probably just be emotionally scarring for you, though, me leaping about and all."

He smirked, and lifted a hand to me so that I could pull him to his feet. "You're no ballerina, Cal. Sorry," he said, nearly smiling, but his expression fell flat when he looked down at the other me. "So we have to just-"

I gated us into the bar. Didn't even warn him, just did it. At least that way he wouldn't have to feel like the one doing the abandoning. Cal would be fine. He would travel back, meet the entire supernatural gang of bigwigs, and figure everything out on his own just as I had.

Loki was sitting at the bar, looking like Niko, sounding like Niko, and drinking whiskey, which was a helluva lot _not_ like Niko. I sat down on the unoccupied stool beside him, unseen by the other patrons, and tapped my fingertips on the wood. "You know, if you're trying to pass for human and not to draw attention to yourself, maybe you shouldn't have had..." I trailed off and counted the glasses in front of him, "Ten glasses of hard alcohol, in, you know, less than fifteen minutes."

"Ten glasses? I've downed at least fifteen, but the feathery grump snatched several already and I pelted another at one of the wolves. Such abhorrent brutes, the blubbering fleabags," he said, grinning wickedly. He offered his half empty glass to me and swirled the amber liquid. "Want a swig? It's guaranteed to improve your foul temperament."

"Doubt it," I said, pushing the glass back down on the bar. I glanced at Robin, who was leaning against the wall with Ishiah, watching Niko wearily. Of course he was immensely suspicious. When Niko drank, and that in itself usually meant the world was ending, he only ever had a beer or two at most. This much whiskey? He might as well have alarms and flashing lights whirling around his head. _Danger, Will Robinson, danger._ Robin was probably moments away from charging across the room and performing an exorcism. I hefted Xolo up against my shoulder and pivoted so that the creature could see the other side of the bar. "Robin and Ishiah are suspicious. Make them believe everything's perfectly normal," I ordered him, watching as their expressions brightened.

"We have to go," I told Loki, the words sour in my mouth. The concept that I really had to leave, right when I knew for sure that Niko and Robin were safe...it was criminal. I growled deep in my throat and impulsively snatched the glass from his loose grip and downed the rest. As the liquid burned like fire down my throat I slammed the cup upside down on the bar and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. "We have to go _now_ ," I said, and strode out of the bar before I could change my mind.

As soon as the door swung open I got a glimpse of the pizza truck, the balaur, and the absence of mini-me. He was already long gone, off to fix his destitute life. I ducked into a nearby alleyway with Niko right on my heels. I dropped Xolo brusquely on the ground, then lightly kicked him away when he again tried to clutch at my ankle.

"Sorry Nik," I said, smiling crookedly, "Looks like you get babysitting duty from here on out. Or...you know..." I shrugged and made a slicing motion across my neck with my hand. It was his choice, ultimately, what happened to Xolo. He had already decided once, though I'd rudely interfered. "It's your call. Scouts honor I won't burst in and steal him from you again."

"I would not mind if you did," he said honestly, and then pulled a black permanent marker from his pocket and uncapped it. "Hold out your good arm," he instructed, gesturing for me to roll up the sleeve of my jacket.

I complied, and as soon as I held the arm out he bent over it and wrote, holding it still with his other hand. "What are you doing?" I asked curiously, trying to peer over him to get a glimpse.

He nudged me back. "Be still," he chided, continuing his work. The marker was cool on my skin, the smell sharp and chemical. "I know how very fond you are of tattoos, little brother, so I figured I'd give you a temporary one as an early birthday present."

I smirked. "That's very old-school of you, Cyrano. Isn't that how people get ink poisoning?"

"You have an excellent immune system. I daresay if the myriad of spoiled food you've previously consumed hasn't killed you, this surely won't." He continued writing for a few moments, moving the marker in slow, precise strokes. When he finished he pulled my sleeve back in place and capped the marker. "There. All finished."

"Can I see the masterpiece, oh great Picasso?"

"Not now. Later," he said, leaving the 'when I'm not around' part out. I still heard it. Loud and clear.

Loki chose that moment to round the corner. He looked around and scowled as he sighted us. "What is it with you hanging out in dingy alleyways all the time? Must you always linger amongst garbage?"

"Don't worry princess, we'll be back in Asgard soon enough," I said with a sneer. I _could_ have gated us all back to the apartment instead of the alley, but it was much more fun watching Loki squirm. I nudged his arm. "You ready to tag along?"

He gave me a look so fiery that it could've set me ablaze. "I am Loki, God of Chaos and Mischief, and I do not tag along with anyone, much less a lowbred halfwit like yourself."

"I get all tingly inside when you talk like that. You know, if we hurry we might have time to get those friendship necklaces I mentioned earlier-"

He nearly knocked me over with a swift smack of his arm, and I grinned as I doubled over, ribs groaning. Niko looked wearily between us, and finally settled his gaze on me and raised an eyebrow in question. I straightened up. "No worries. The god of Bigoted Dickery and I have a special relationship, like that shared amongst best friends."

"You are a loutish scoundrel, and I haven't consumed nearly enough whiskey to tolerate your divergent vulgarities," Loki countered, and turned away. "I am going back to the others, to the moment after we departed. Come quickly or, better still, refrain from coming at all. In any case, endeavor to not to fall on your face this time around, you incompetent klutz," he said viciously, and disappeared.

Niko stared at the place where he'd vanished. "He certainly is...bizarre."

"You've no idea," I told him, shaking my head. "The guy's a variety pack of strangeness and overbearing swagger..." I trailed off and flicked a fly off my hand. "But hey, so's everyone else we hang with these days. He's okay."

Niko snorted and looked down, then absentmindedly scraped a candy wrapper off his boot. I let the silence alone for a moment, dreading what had to happen next.

"Well..." I said, and gave him a rueful smile, "This is where I leave you."

Niko reached out and grasped the sleeve of my jacket, as though to make sure I stayed for a little longer. As if I wanted to fucking leave at all. How the hell was he so calm? If our positions were reversed, if Nik had been going somewhere I couldn't follow, where there was a hefty possibility that he might _die,_ I would have been going out of my damn mind. Yelling, scheming, fighting to keep him here. But him? I wasn't sure if his calm was a carefully crafted mask or if it stemmed from his unwavering confidence in me. Maybe both.

Maybe his internal screams were just as loud as mine.

"You're coming back," he insisted, studying my face closely, " _Right?"_

I swallowed hard and fought to keep my face expressionless. There it was again. That damn question. How many times had Niko already asked me that? And for him to demand an answer now? Right now, when I was leaving? What was I supposed to say? Nothing. I couldn't. _Shit_.

"Yeah," I answered, and winced at the immediate failure. Plague of the World, my ass. It'd been just one word, just a simple, one syllable word, and I hadn't even been able to make _that_ sound assertive. Goddamn it, he was right, I was a sucky liar. Screw the polygraph test, just sit Nik in front of me and reap the truth.

I tried to recover the slip, tried to radiate a feeling of easygoing confidence, but it was too late. He'd seen my real answer, either reflected in my eyes or the sound of my voice. His calm expression faltered ever so slightly, and his grip tightened on my arm. "Cal?"

I pulled him forward for a quick, one armed hug and then held him back at arms length. I smiled at him, a _real_ smile, one of the rare ones I saved for him.

"Cal?" he said again, nerves cracking through the calm.

"Sometimes I dump sugar in your wheatgrass drinks when you're not looking. Like, at least six or seven _tablespoons_ of sugar. You usually like it better those days," I said, grinning as I tugged at his braid, "Just thought you should know."

I travelled back eight years.

Back to Asgard, back to the library, back to...

Holy shit, what had I missed?

"Uh...guys?" I said, raising my voice to be heard over the angry clamor echoing in the lofty room. "Hello?"

Loki made eye contact with me from where he stood, his back against a wall, ringed by the others who were all holding weapons at his throat. He rolled his eyes and flung his hand theatrically towards me. "There, see? Alive, as promised," he told them dryly, testily swatting Niko's blade away from his skin. He scowled at me. "Was it really too much to ask for you to arrive promptly, Caliban?"

I peered sideways at the clock, which showed that less than a minute had passed since our departure. "You're kidding, right? How much more exact did you want me to be?"

"Apparently a measly ten second delay is all the time needed for your ragtag squad to organize and execute a firing line," he drawled, weaving his way out of the chaos and slumping down in a wooden chair to fume.

I smirked. "Anyone actually shoot him?"

"Nah. You got here too quick, you bastard," Cal said as he holstered his Eagle, trying and failing to conceal that he was actually pleased to see me, "You should have waited a minute or two before coming back."

"Damn," I said, and then braced myself as Garm darted toward me, tongue lolling out of his powerful jaws. "Oh, crap, no, hang on-" A waterfall of thick fur circled my face and chest, muffling the rest of my words. I tried to push myself back, but the wolf was too excited for me to get much leeway. A trail of slobber worked its way down my cheek. I slumped against him and laughed. It was like the world was trying to apologize by giving me a pet that could have eaten all the other dogs that had attacked me over the years. Using my hands, I managed to free myself from the furry mountain long enough to take a proper gasp of air. "That's enough for now, big guy," I insisted, "Just sit and hang out, alright? Gnaw on some scrolls."

Garm didn't sit, but he didn't tackle me again either. I stepped around him and made my way toward the others, wiping the drool off my face with the sleeve of my jacket. Goodfellow slapped me on the back. "Still in one piece, eh?"

"I'm never dead," I assured him, repeating words that I'd told Niko long ago. I glanced at my brother and found him analyzing me, checking for injuries like usual. Well, I had a helluva big mess hidden under layers of leather and gauze, but he damn sure wasn't getting a glimpse of that monstrosity. Nope. No way. "I'm _fine,"_ I told him, with enough exaggerated emphasis on the 'fine,' that Loki actually chuckled.

"Naturally. As usual," the god groused, amused. He rocked back in the chair and laced his fingers around his neck, "Heaven forbid there ever comes a moment when you are _not_ fine, Aupheling."

"I'll be sure you're the first to know if it ever happens," I called over to him.

"And...everyone else?" Cal asked apprehensively. Those were his spoken words, but his _real_ question, the one that really mattered, shone brightly in his eyes.

 _Is Nik alive?_

I wasn't sure why I'd ever thought he and I were so different. When it came right down to the core, to what made us tick, we were exactly the same.

"Everyone's alive," I assured him, lip curling, "We're good."

" _Good?"_ Niko groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose, "No. If this is indeed a time loop, if history is going to repeat itself," he began, trailing off in frustration and pointing at Cal, "You do realize that someday he's going to live through _exactly_ what you just experienced. All of that trauma, and the _nightmares_ , and what the Kyntalash is doing to your arm-"

Cal slung an arm over his shoulder. "It's worth it."

 _"How?_ How could anything possibly be worth that?"

"Thinking you're dead so that we can kill Tyr is _loads_ better than having you actually die so that we can kill Tyr," I said firmly, without a scrap of apology in my voice. "There's no fucking contest, Cyrano. That's just how it has to be."

His eyes narrowed suspiciously. "And _why_ does anyone even need to believe I'm dead in the first place?" he ground out, giving me _the look,_ the one that screamed that he knew I was hiding something, something big, and he wasn't going to stand for it. Shit.

"Don't ask me," I said, putting every ounce of effort into sounding innocent, "That's just how this spiel is playing out. Speaking of, we need to check with Odin, see if he has a plan."

"Did you find the Vigil?" Robin interrupted, crossing his arms, "Is there any simple way to kill Tyr? Weaknesses, anything of the sort?"

I brushed errant strands of hair out of my eyes and shrugged. "Well...I've got good news and go cry yourself to sleep in a corner news. _Yes_ , we found the remaining Vigil members, hiding away like rodents in the walls. You'll be happy to know that they are extremely dead, bits and pieces everywhere, you know, kaboom," I said, flinging my hands out as a demonstration. My smile fell slightly. "But no, the Vigil never designed an off switch for Tyr. That would have been the _intelligent_ move, and it turns out the whole lot of 'em are just as demented as I've imagined all these years, the fuckers."

"I'm sure Odin will have something," Goodfellow said, sounding more confident than he looked.

"Of course he will, he's Gandalf," I said, and began walking toward the door.

"If he doesn't?" Loki asked.

I turned and grinned at him over my shoulder, eyes flashing red. "I'll improvise."

 **Niko**

Cal disappeared.

Gone. My brother...gone.

I raised my hands and pressed my palms against my eyes as the silent mantra of _fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck_ wove itself into a devastating chorus in my mind. What had I been thinking? I should've ripped the abhorrent device off his arm and swiftly rendered him unconscious, locked him in a room somewhere and gone back myself. I should've-

"You had to let him go," Goodfellow said beside me. He'd been our shadow the entire evening, unbeknownst to Cal, arriving shortly after we'd reached the pizza truck. Cal hadn't been able to see him, had only seen what Robin wanted him to see. Xolo was the ultimate double-edged sword, and Robin had used that sword expertly in the apartment.

He'd tricked Cal.

Knowing that Robin had fed the chupacabra for years, it made sense that his orders would have overshadowed Cal's. I'd seen the contradiction, what Robin had actually said on the couch and how my brother reacted, but Robin had placed a finger to his lips as he slipped out the door, pleading for me not to tell Cal, to pretend that he'd just asked for a 'sexy memory' to wipe out the last afternoon.

Lies. So many lies.

I forced myself to refocus back to the present, to redirect my attention away from the stabbing ache of Cal's absence and back to Goodfellow. All those years of meditation seemed designed to prepare me exclusively for this moment, as it was taking all my willpower to _not_ run him through with my katana. "Whether I just made the biggest mistake of my life remains to be seen," I said calmly as my eyes narrowed to slits. "Robin, you are my best friend, and I trust you. That said, that is _the only reason_ I just allowed my little brother to travel back to battle a god, one he _obviously_ doesn't believe he can kill."

"I have a plan-"

"It had better be an astonishing scheme," I interrupted, accidently trodding on Xolo as I moved closer, "And while you're busy explaining that, maybe you should go into detail about everything else. Starting with, might I suggest, exactly why you never found it pertinent to inform me about Cal's time travel plight, and why the first I learned of it was when I hurried home to find him half dead in his room, having a mental breakdown, with his arm nearly in pieces."

"Niko," Robin began, looking truly miserable, "You must understand, if I had told you, you never would have let it happen."

"Of course I would never have allowed it! You saw him. You saw how he looked, how he acted. He was _broken_ , he wasn't even..." I trailed off and scrubbed a hand over my eyes, "Why did _any_ of this have to happen? Tell me that. Make me understand."

"Cal must kill Tyr. If he cannot, Ragnarok will come to be and all worlds will end," Robin said, placing both his hands gently on my shoulders. "Take a deep breath and _listen_. Cal can do it. He _can_. He will have a lot of help, and what I instructed you to draw on his arm will assist him in the past. I promise."

I swallowed hard, still fighting back nausea. "What if you're wrong?"

"Niko. You _know me,"_ Robin insisted softly, "I never would have let your brother leave if I believed he would fail."

That much was true. I exhaled heavily and studied him, looking for any sign of hesitation, of lies. I found none. "What do we do?"

"We need to hasten back to my apartment," he said, giving my shoulder a final reassuring squeeze before scooping Xolo into his arms. He placed a hand at my back and steered me back into the nearly deserted street. "If you want answers, prepare to get them in spades. Odin is stopping by."

 **Please Review!**


	14. Nevermore

**Thank you again for your reviews!**

 **...**

 **Cal**

Odin met us just outside the massive silver door to his throne room. As we approached he leaned on his spear and gave me a cocksure flash of teeth. Something dark and twisted swirled in his eye, enough to make me substantially wary. This bearded oddity might have the gall and brainpower to save us, but he was also a _god,_ and the gods I knew had this nasty habit of screwing me over to complete their own agendas. Bastards.

"Walk with me, both of you," he said agreeably to Cal and me, and clapped a hand on each of our shoulders as though welcoming back children that'd spent the afternoon playing in the yard. The guy had the wizened grandfatherly vibes blaring, and it might have even been endearing, you know, if he wasn't exactly the type of grandfather that would kick your ass into any of the Nine Worlds if you so much as screwed with his TiVo or dropped the good china.

Niko grabbed the back of our jackets and yanked us back so forcefully that my ribs creaked. "No," he argued steely, dangerously close to snapping again. "All-Father or not, you are not taking them anywhere alone. I will not allow it."

I felt for him, I really did. It was rough enough watching out for one brother that was a danger magnet. But _two?_ Being the master of Zen only got you so far. "It's okay, Nik," I assured him, "Gandalf isn't going to try to kill us. Right Gandalf?"

Odin gave our shoulders an endearing pat. "Not in this moment, no."

My brother's expression darkened even further, and Garm growled.

I winced. "Probably not the most reassuring thing you coulda said, but you'll do better next time," I told Odin, and nudged Niko. "You're stressing again. Cut it out, it's bad for your digestion. I'll gate us right back if he tries to pull anything screwy. Promise."

He scowled and tapped his foot crossly, but released his hold on us. I shot a backwards look at Loki over my shoulder to silently plead that he ensure Nik and Robin, stubborn and defiant souls that they were, stayed _put_. He gave me a sarcastic salute, which, oddly enough, was reassuring.

Odin led us down several corridors and into a dark room lit only by dribbling candles. He crossed the dirt floor and warmed his hands against the gentle heat of fire blazing in a sandstone hearth. He motioned for us to sit on a tattered wooden bench beside the flames. The smoke was thick and unwelcoming. I shot a glance sideways at Cal, and he shook his head slightly and crossed his arms. Odin smiled when he noticed that neither of us were going to sit. "It is unhealthy to trust no one."

"I trust _family_ ," I corrected, watching the flames shoot sparks. "Sorry, but that ain't you."

"I see," He allotted. He sighed and rubbed his hands together. "It truly is a shame that you will perish with an angry heart."

I tightened my jaw and turned away at the unwelcome reminder. _Jesus_. Thank god Nik hadn't tagged along and heard that. Thousands of years old, and this dingbat still hadn't managed to develop a damn filter? "Yeah. Shame," I growled, momentarily haunted by the memory of Nik's expression eight years in the future as I'd all but admitted that I'd never make it back to present day.

Cal's fingers brushed over a knife, but he wisely left it hidden. "Look, he and his angry heart are doing just great. We need to kill Tyr. How 'bout we all focus on that."

Odin lowered himself onto the bench and leaned back with his spear across his lap. He closed his eye good eye and leaned back.

A good thirty seconds crawled by. "So..." I said, resisting the urge to poke him, "How about that plan of yours?"

"Let us rest for a brief period, gather ourselves to prepare for the tasks ahead," Odin spoke, eye still firmly shut.

A minute crawled by. Two minutes.

"Is this guy fucking serious?" Cal deadpanned under his breath, tilting his head in disbelief. "Hey. Odin," he said irritably.

Odin remained motionless but for the rustle of his silver beard in a draft from the hallway.

"You think he died?" he asked warily. He pulled out the knife he'd nearly drawn minutes earlier and slowly reached out to poke the god's shoulder with the hilt. He prodded gently in the beginning, and then harder when he didn't get a single response, not even a twitch.

I knocked his hand down. "For Christ's sake, put that away. Don't _poke_ him. That's got bad karma written all over it," I reprimanded him. The smoke was making my head spin. It reeked of clove and apples, the musty smell of dirt and ash, and pine needles covered in snow. I eyed the vacant stretch of bench and made a decision. Screw it. I sat beside Odin, brushing his blue cloak out of the way with my Auphe glove. "I mean...surely he's fine. Do gods die of old age?"

Cal covered his mouth with his sleeve, coughed harshly. "That'd be just our disgusting kind of luck, wouldn't it?" he said, and coughed again. "This...um...I feel weird," he admitted, "Are you...?"

I gritted my teeth against the sharp burn of ash rooted deep in my throat and made an effort to breathe through my nose. What was with the ventilation in here? My life was plenty complicated without adding the possibility of suffocation. "We should go," I choked out, and climbed to my feet. At least, that's what would have happened if my limbs had been kind enough to pay attention to my brain.

Cal dropped to his knees beside the bench. "Fuck," he breathed, and fell the rest of the way down. My vision darkened, blurred, twisted into a kaleidoscope of color. I slumped back, and for a moment it felt like I was...for a moment...I...

...

 _Cal. Hey, wake_

 _not a_

 _are perfectly safe...you don't understand_

 _down long enough for me_

 _if you must_

 _Cal! Goddamn it, you promised. You_

 _this is normal. Niko, trust_

 _..._

"We have arrived," Odin spoke.

My mind pinged back sharply into reality from a swirling mass of ancient forests and vivid swirling colors. I was aware, I was _me_ again. I was...

I was _livid._

In the back of my mind I recalled voices, Niko, Robin, Loki...

 _Loki..._ that royal pain in the ass.

I'd trusted him with one task. One single lousy job, to keep the others away. And he'd _still_ screwed it up.

I snapped my eyes open. Odin was already vertical beside me, arms stretched high above his head. "How are you faring?" he inquired pleasantly.

Muninn fluttered on black wings to perch on Odin's shoulder. "Ice in the veins and poison in the blood."

I was in no mood. No. Mood. " _Nevermore,_ you sack of feathery shit," I hissed at the bird.

Muninn picked at Odin's ear for a moment, and tilted his head at me. "Asshole," he cawed, and adjusted his grip on his living perch to peer condescendingly down at me.

I flipped the bird off and redirected my attention to Odin. "What the fuck did you do to us, old man?" I demanded. I stood shakily, swallowed back last remnants of smoke, and fought to clear my head. It was taking too long, and all my body really wanted was to slump back on the bench. _Goddamn gods._

I checked on Cal, and was relieved to find him still sprawled on the ground beside us, propped up on one elbow. He gaped behind me, mouth slightly ajar. "You're gonna want to turn around."

"Why?" I asked apprehensively, and complied. I stared. Emotionless. Channeled everything I had into my what little Zen I possessed, long enough that even Nik would have been beaming and throwing confetti at me, and then I decided enough was enough. "Oh, come off it already," I raged, throwing my hands skyward in frustration, "That's it. I give up. Shit. I don't have time for this. What is this, a damn nature walk?"

"The Yggdrasil," Odin said calmly, gesturing lazily at an immense ash tree before us like I hadn't spoken and this kind of hallucinatory experience happened everyday. He adjusted his footing and stepped one foot up on a gnarled root. "The World Tree. You now stand at the center of the Norse cosmos. This is a place of power."

My eyes tracked upwards from roots to a broad and gnarled trunk, passed on to the twist and upward arc of branches, and gaped upwards at the canopy of greenery overhead. The room was gone, the fireplace was gone, the bench, gone. "Fucktastic. Mind explaining how we got here, oh bearded wonder?"

His lip curled. "Got here? We have not moved. I did not become the All-Father by chance, my boy," he said, and held his spear up so that it was eyelevel between us, "Now. You wish to kill Tyr, and I will tell you how. Are you familiar with runes?"

I hardly heard him, still wrapped up in the conundrum of the giant fucking _tree_ and where the hell we were and what the hell had happened. "Like...symbols?"

He rolled his eye skyward. "Yes. Like _symbols_ ," he mocked, amusement creeping into his tone.

"Yeah. Whatever. Point fun all you please," I said angrily, still sore at being tricked into whatever this was, "Sorry if I'm a bit distracted by our current situation to worry about a few weird ass symbols."

"Weird ass symbols?" he mused, stroking Muninn's feathers as he eyed me, "If only your brother could have been the time traveler. He has extensive knowledge of these matters. Much time could have been saved."

I folded my arms sullenly as we walked closer to the tree. Sure, time could have been saved. Nik probably could have quoted the sagas and written in runes. No question that he'd have dealt better than I had, been better grounded. But no.

 _No._

Not in a million years would I ever wish Niko here in my place, his arm in a cocoon of rot. Not him.

Odin stopped and placed a hand lovingly against the trunk. "I hung on this tree, my _gallows_ , for nine days and nine nights, my side pierced by this spear. A sacrifice of myself, to myself. For knowledge. For _r_ _unes_ ," he emphasized. "Runes are power. Know how to cut them, read them, stain them, prove them, evoke them, score them," he paused and glanced pointedly at me. "Know how to _send_ them."

Oh, I was going to send him something, alright, but it wouldn't be runes. His butchered ass in a giftwrapped box, perhaps.

He knelt at the base of the tree and carved the trunk with his spear. "You question how Tyr summons lightning, how he steals breath with his noose," he said, peering into my eyes, "His power comes from runes, but _I_ invented them. Eighteen runes I learned, hanging from this tree. Runes that blunt enemy swords in battle and free men from chains. Runes that make corpses speak. Runes that calm the raging ocean waters. Runes that allow me to snatch arrows from midair, keep warriors unscathed in battle. Useful, no?"

"There's no such thing as magic," I said stubbornly. _And I don't trust you._

"There is such as this," he said, and stood again. He smiled at me, the old grandfatherly smile that hinted at sinister intent. He pointed at what he'd drawn. An arrow, pointing upward. I'd seen it before, on Tyr. "You recognize it, don't you? You see before you _Tiwaz_. It is the rune of the sacrifice of the individual for the wellbeing of the whole of society. It is Tyr's rune. Tyr once believed in such standards. Of all the gods, only he was brave enough to place his hand in the wolf Fenrir's jaws as he was bound, knowing full well that he would lose the hand."

"Yeah, I've heard that tidbit. Could you remind me exactly what Fenrir did wrong that he _needed_ muzzled for life? I only ask because I'm sure Loki would be _strongly_ interested in your definition of justice. Seeing as that was his _kid_ ," I said, startled to find that I was actually sticking up for the trickster, "But hey, whatever. Who am I to judge?"

"Who indeed," Odin said wryly. He placed a hand on my arm, the one that was all but destroyed. "It seems that you also have sacrificed an arm for the greater good."

I yanked the limb away from him. "That's different. And I haven't lost my damn arm-"

"You've sacrificed your arm to travel as no mortal has travelled, to kill a threat to the Nine Worlds. You've sacrificed your life to Loki in order to save your brother," he said, and his lip curled as the dark glint returned to his eye. "You've no idea the power of sacrifice when paired with runes. Tyr once had that understanding, but he has fallen far. Become unworthy. _You_ now embody this cause. Call upon this rune for justice, even from Tyr himself."

I could see where he was going with this. I didn't want any part of it. "No. Absolutely not," I said, backing away from him, "Listen, Gandalf. All this talk of hocus pocus is wacked up gibberish, alright? If you want me to kill Tyr, take us away from this trippy fantasy world and put a weapon in my hands. You've gotta have mystical guns, explosives. You know, fun stuff. _U_ _seful_ stuff. This isn't kindergarten, and you are not going to draw _runes_ on me."

"Why not? Your brother already has."

Silence.

"Excuse me? Nik did _what?"_ Cal demanded, but I was already yanking off my leather jacket.

There, in permanent marker across my wrist, was a single rune, a crisscross of intersecting lines that I'd never seen before. Underneath the rune, in slightly smaller print, was the word 'Gungner.'

I tilted my arm closer, because the additional writing on the side of my arm was less neat and meticulous than Nik's usual handwriting. Of course it was. I'd been _leaving_ him. He might have looked calm on the outside, but the shaky handwriting screamed otherwise. Four words. He'd written just four words, and that was enough to make me want to strangle the nearest person and puke my guts out.

Cal grabbed my arm and tilted it toward him so that he could get a better look. He read everything, then his eyes, conflicted and distraught, peered through black hair to meet mine.

"All in all, he did a decent job on the rune," Odin said curtly, moving the conversation along smoothly. "Although, in order to make it effective, we will need your blood."

 **...**

 **Niko**

We made it back to Robin's apartment relatively quickly. How, I could not say. I vaguely remember the puck hailing a cab once we reached the more populated part of town, but I was still in shock and all other memory was a blur. My body wanted to run, to find my brother, to kill whoever had him. But for the first time in my life, finding him would be impossible, and there was nothing for me to kill.

When we arrived at Robin's building, the puck dragged me into the elevator and up to his apartment. He motioned for me to sit before he made his way to the bedroom. "Before Odin arrives, I have something. For you," he called back to me over his shoulder.

I kept my hand on the hilt of my katana as I stood motionless, waiting. Cal had always joked that the blade was my security blanket, and he'd been right. Now he was gone, temporarily, but gone nonetheless. I needed _something_ to reassure me.

Robin returned quickly, a long white box in his hand. "Six years ago..." He began, and trailed off with uncharacteristic uncertainty. "Niko, please sit. You are pale as a ghost, and are making me nervous."

I bent my knees and perched on the edge of his leather sofa. Alert. My eyes remained focused on the box in his hand, nausea curling in my stomach at the mere sight of it, though I hadn't a clue why.

Robin prodded Salome off her perch beside me and settled into the vacated spot. "This box has been for me a great source of discord," he began darkly, turning it absentmindedly in his grip. "Six years ago, before my monogamous days were even a thought, there was a...mishap. I will not share details, but know that my closet did not survive. During the renovation, I discovered this box hidden in the very back. It is one of the first signs that something was amiss, though at the time I hadn't known anything else, hadn't even conceived that time travel might be possible. Not to mention it wasn't until recently that I even recognized what I had found-"

"Give me the box," I interrupted flatly, releasing my katana to extend a hand. He meant well, but I was in no mood for talk.

Goodfellow handed it over. "Just...don't jump to conclusions," he warned.

I lifted the lid and recognized Cal's handwriting instantly, scrawled messily over a wrinkled slip of paper.

 _Robin. I hope every last one of your Armani suits was ripped to shreds and burned in that little incident. I picked a rotten year, day, and time to pop in, and I'm hands down not going to be able to see you without wanting to gouge my eyes out with spoons for years if I'm lucky, decades if I'm not, and I'm never lucky. I told you to keep this safe a few years ago, but since you won't remember until a few years from now I figured I'd leave you some warning so you don't give it to one of your billion-and-six lovers by accident, or use it as some type of goddamn sex toy, you horny bastard.  
Give it to Nik when the time comes. You'll know when.  
_ _P.S. Expect to receive another undead cat, cause it's coming straight your way, FedEx.  
-Cal_

My heart hammered. There was a tiny object wrapped in tissue paper underneath the note, and I didn't need to unwrap it to know what I'd find.

"It's his ring-"

"I know that!" I snapped, less calm than I'd probably ever been in my life, "It could not be more obvious. So...what? He made a random trip to leave this with you. Why? Is he dead? Did he believe he was going to die?"

"Of course he isn't dead," Robin said soothingly. "There's an envelope in the very bottom of the package. It is addressed to you. I have not opened it."

I stilled my search through layers of tissue paper long enough to shoot him a _look._ I might have been falling apart at the seems, but I didn't think I'd ever be distraught enough to believe a statement like that. Not from him.

"What? I would never infringe upon your privacy in such a crude fashion," Robin said defensively, and then had the decency to look a twinge embarrassed as he relented. "Okay, I admit, I _might_ have peeked at it. _O_ _nce_. It's a note from Cal-"

I ripped the envelope open.

 **...**

 **Cal**

 **...**

Why was it always so impossible to keep my blood on the inside, where it belonged? Here I was, one arm fleshless and seeping through gauze, and now I had to slice up the other? Just turn me inside out already, wring me dry. I fought to stay calm and channel my inner Niko. Slugging the All-Father in the face, while therapeutic, was bound to hail down consequences. Death, for one.

"No," Cal growled, stepping in front of me. "Back off."

I stared dumbfounded at his back. A week ago he'd have cheerfully buried me underneath a ton of concrete had the opportunity arisen, and now this? Had we entered the Twilight Zone? "Cal-"

"Shut it," he said fiercely. "I'm fed up with this asshole playing us. He's nothing but a hairy dick fresh from Hannibal Lecter's looney bin. We should leave."

Odin chuckled merrily at the insult and leaned back against the World Tree. "At least you are both entertaining," he said as he tossed his spear from hand to hand. "Hark, I am not presuming to bleed him dry, just make little cuts. Besides, it was _Niko_ that drew the rune-"

"Don't," Cal snapped, "Do not bring him into this. Nik would never have drawn anything on Caliban if he knew you were going to cut him open and use his blood in some mumbo jumbo crap."

"Niko drew this eight years in your future. He is older, perhaps drastically altered from the brother you grew up with," Odin said with cutting honesty.

"He would _never_ change so much that he would do that to me," Cal hissed.

Odin held up a finger. "Or, perhaps, you are right, and he did not know. Perchance someone else knew. Manipulated him to do what was necessary."

I sighed deeply and pinched the bridge of my nose. "Robin," I offered the answer, almost embarrassed at how obvious it was, "That would be exactly something Robin would do."

How, though? He'd been in the bar, I'd pulled the M.I.B flashy-thing on his brain to wipe any knowledge of the time travel fiasco, and...

He'd been in the bar. Period.

Right?

What the hell was I saying? Robin had been born of Hob, the first trickster. If that didn't give him full rights to mind boggle the fuck out of me, what would? I barely understood the lengths he'd gone to ensure Niko and I survived Grimm and his bae. Did I actually believe he had waited in the bar while I went traipsing off through time? Had I been so stupid to consider that he'd really let me go without a scheme? That he'd been fooled by all my lies that I was going to be all a-okay, even though I'd been stumbling around in a depressed haze, unable to even stomach orange juice without having a mental freak-a-thon?

Absolutely not.

Goddamn it.

I hoped Nik was giving him a hard time, cause I was sure as hell going to if I ever saw him again.

"Robin? Why would he do that to Niko? To _you?"_ Cal questioned suspiciously, turning to address me. He might have warmed up to me, but the puck? Not so much luck there. Not yet.

I flung my hands up in frustration. "Knowing Goodfellow..." I began, and trailed off before making a decision. "He's got good reason for it, and I should pay attention. I'd be an idiot _not_ to pay attention." I held my arm out to Odin, "Do your thing. Be gentle, I'm a bleeder."

Cal shoved my arm away from the god. "You're _kidding_ ," he said, aggravated. "Right?"

"No. I'm not," I groaned, and lifted my arm back up only to have him push it away again. "Cal. Trust me, okay? Robin knows his stuff."

Odin stepped closer and took a hold of my arm, smiling at the rune. "Do you by chance know what this is?"

I gave him my best bitchface. _Come on, Gandalf. Keep up._ "Yeah. I can also read and write Chinese."

"This is Gar," Odin explained patiently, "It is a powerful rune, as it contains all other runes in itself."

Cal ground his teeth together in vexation as he watched the All-Father pull out a knife.

"It is also _my_ rune," he continued, ignoring him, "It means spear, and it represents the World Tree, where I hung to receive enlightenment." His eye glistened. "Your friends have done well. This is a powerful rune."

"It sounds depressing and dangerous, and I hate this," Cal spat, knocking my arm once more down and out of his grasp.

I smiled, flexed my fingers. "Stop that, okay?" I appealed, and elbowed him lightly. "Trust me. I know what I'm doing."

Odin placed the blade to my skin and made the first shallow cut over marker. The blood welled up over my skin.

Cal let his breath out in a whistle. "For the record Caliban, whatever this accomplishes, even if you wind up with mystical protection from harm or magical powers, crap like that, _whatever,_ Nik's still gonna kill me for letting this shit happen. Then he's gonna kill _you,_ for being a fucking idiot."

"Don't forget Robin," I added, smirking at him as I felt Odin make another slice on my skin.

"Well _obviously_. The puck too. Niko's going to kill everyone," Cal amended, eyes slanted, hands balled into fists, "You know how he gets with you...me. Us."

Yep, Twilight Zone. Cue the music, Junior was worried. About me. My, how times had changed.

"I'm lightly tracing the rune with my knife," Odin explained, "To ensure it can never be wiped away. And I am adding a second. The Tiwaz rune, Tyr's rune, beside mine. It will serve you well."

He continued working for a moment, then dipped his finger in the blood and traced it lightly over the marker.

"Annnd now we're finger-painting. Fabulous," Cal snarled, running a hand over his face. He glared at me.

"This is old magic, here in the shadow of the Yggdrasil," Odin rebuked him. He paused for a moment, and then nodded to me as he dropped my arm. "It is finished. Now, for the second word your brother wrote. Gungnir."

"Your spear," I said quickly, before he could explain and make me feel even more of an uncultured idiot than he already had. I shot him a defiant smirk as I staunched the lightly weeping cuts against my jacket. _See? I knew something._

He held it out for me to inspect. "Yes. My spear," he said with solemn amusement. "Runes are carved on the tip. Tyr's rune, amongst others."

"You should sell it on eBay, make a pretty penny," I drawled, crossing my arms. "Now can we _please_ get back to reality? Niko's most likely at the end of his rope."

He ignored my comments and extended his arm further so that the spear was touching my chest. "Take this," he said, his eye burning into mine, "And I will ensure you victory over Tyr."

I eyed the offering guardedly, and made no move to accept it. "You're _giving_ me your spear?" I asked, cursing myself for the billionth time that week for never paying closer attention to Niko's obsessive ramblings on mythology, "This is significant somehow, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"Am I going to regret taking it?" I asked through gritted teeth, fed up with being manipulated like a pawn.

Odin smiled. "That depends on you, on how you fight, how your story ends. In any case, do you really believe you have a choice?"

That double-dealing quack. He was right, of course. I didn't have a choice. It didn't make any difference that I couldn't tell if he was playing me or rooting for me. That I'd never really know, not until the last second, and maybe not even then. If this would help me kill Tyr...

I needed it. I scowled and snatched the spear from his hand.

Odin's lips curled. "What is higher than the self is the self become higher."

Empty words. I'd had enough of his words. "Take us back. _Now_."

He laughed, and the world around us blurred into splotches of red, orange, and gold. The world was on fire.

"Caliban?" Robin said in my ear. He said something else too, but my hearing was screwy and the world was spinning like an amusement park ride and I was riddled with an overwhelming urge to toss my cookies. Plus I was furious, as per the norm. Not that I could've killed anything at the moment; a swarm of fire breathing kittens coulda barbequed me and left my entrails on Odin's doormat if they'd wanted to. Or existed. Or...

Wait. What was _wrong_ with me?

"Ugh," I groaned. "G'damn..."

"There are matters I must address," Odin said, standing tall over the others in a haze of blue and gray. "I will return momentarily."

Robin watched him depart with trepidation, then gently slapped my cheek. "You with me yet, kid? Yes? Kindly enlighten me, on a scale of one, as in 'I just had incredibly erotic intercourse,' to ten, in which you are moments away from projectile vomiting all over my designer apparel, how are you feeling? I ask because I care."

I glared at him, the middle one of him, anyway, as there were currently three. Three of Robin was two more than I was willing to stomach. I raised a shaky hand to him and he eased me up into a sitting position. "You're a mess. I've heard of Odin's shamanic prowess, but... _skata_. Seeing such action in person is infinitely-"

"Shut up," I growled, unwilling to listen to a five minute monologue on the joys of Odin. "Go. Keep'n eye on him, the snake," I slurred, pushing at him weakly.

Robin patted me lightly on the back. "With pleasure," he said, and a flash of fury creased his face for just a moment, brief enough that maybe I'd just imagined it. "Just...get better. You'll be alright."

I watched his back as he left, then rubbed at my eyes as the color continued to improve and the air became breathable once more. Something heavy and warm was pressed against my left leg, and I was unsurprised to find Garm stretched out at my feet, subsequently taking up half the floor space. I gave his ears a quick scratch as I focused on the rest of the room. Niko was beside Cal, speaking in a soothing tone as he coaxed him back to consciousness. He'd be alright. I turned my attention to the god of lies himself, determined to get answers of the free-of-bullshit variety. Loki leaned in the doorframe, lazily tossing a throwing knife repeatedly in the air and catching it each time. "The hell jus' happened?" I shot at him, relieved when the words were clearer, though incredibly strangled. I coughed hard to clear my throat. "Where'd we go?"

"You did not actually travel anywhere," Loki explained, exasperated, "Odin is a shaman. He does this trick all the time, goes on his little 'spirit-journeys' and leaves the rest of us to wonder if he's sleeping or dead. It is incredibly vexing and boorish."

"Must be hell on his wife," I muttered, noting with interest that Loki's appearance was sorely battered. I had a strong notion as to what had happened. My mood improved tenfold. "Did Niko...?"

Loki's expression of hatred could've shot blades at me. "What do you think, you prehistoric slug?"

I peered sideways at my brother, smirking, but he was in no mood. He looked up from where he knelt beside mini-me, checking his pulse. His eyes flashed. "Never scare me like that again," he warned me.

I tried to smooth out my expression, but the image of my brother smashing Loki's skull against the wall was too delicious to ignore. I coughed instead, and sat straighter on the bench. "Got it. No more spirit walks. I'll try to restrain myself," I said, fighting to keep my voice void of emotion. I paused when my fingers curled around an object. I glanced down and saw my hand wrapped around the shaft of the spear. Gungnir. But that meant...

I released the spear and yanked my sleeve up, only to bite back a groan as I caught sight of the two runes now permanently engraved in my flesh. I smoothed the leather back down to hide the damage from Nik.

"You've got to be fucking kidding," Cal hissed at me, watching.

 _Way to be inconspicuous, asshole._ I glared at him, and he at least had the foresight to look conscious-stricken as he realized his mistake.

"What is that?" Niko demanded, eyes catching on the small trail of blood down my wrist.

"You just had to say something, didn't you?" I said bitterly to mini-me as my brother made his way to my side and sat beside me on the bench. I thrust my arm behind my back. "Cyrano...it's fine. Just leave it alone, this one time. Please."

His glare deepened, and I knew he wasn't going to listen. Of _course_ he would never make anything so simple for me. I considered gating away, or making a break for the door, but he'd probably just track me down, tackle me and wrench the truth from me anyway. In my current physical condition, a fight with Niko, a _successful_ fight with Niko, was going to be damn near impossible.

Slowly, very slowly, I surrendered my arm to him and held it palm up so he could see everything.

He flinched at the runes carved into my skin. "Did Odin do this to you?" he demanded, seething with fury. "Did he? Why?"

"He said that Tyr's power comes from runes and I need to use them as well. Kinda copycat him, sort of thing," I began, and tried to pull my arm back, hoping that he was distracted enough not to notice the last part.

He tugged me back over, careful not to touch the wounds. "Damn it, Cal. These runes are dangerous, drastically more so if they remain permanently on your skin," he snarled. "Do you never _think?_ And what..." he glanced down at Gungnir between us, matched it with the word on my arm, and his face went even darker. "Tell me he did not give you his spear."

Again, I tried to twist my arm away. "Niko..."

Too late. His face lost all color, and he leaned forward, twisting my limb for a better look.

His fingers shook as they trailed over the final four words written on my arm. Nik's words. I knew he recognized his own handwriting.

He froze for an excruciatingly long moment, unable to quell the shaking. I tried to pull my arm away, but he refused to unclench his grip. "I drew that on your arm, didn't I? The words and...and the rune?"

I considered lying. Man, did I want to lie. More than anything. But...this was _Niko._ "You did," I admitted, then watched as he fell forward, face buried in his hands. I grabbed his shoulders, pulled him back up so he couldn't hide. "Don't. Don't you do that. You didn't know what Odin was going to do. No way would you have willingly let some god carve anything into me. You didn't know."

He fell silent again, eyes drawn again to the final words.

 _Cal. Come back. Please._

"Are you?" he demanded softly, peeling his eyes from the words long enough to fix me with the most devastating pleading expression I'd ever seen cross his face. "Eight years from now, when I write that..." he faltered as his voice broke, and he swallowed hard, "When I write that and you _leave_ , will you come back?"

Oh god. Oh fuck. _Enough_. I was through with this. Through with putting my brother through all this uncertainty, this torture. So what if Loki believed he was going to drag me downtown after my time was finished. The fuck he was. I was something old and something new, and something unlike anything on this Earth, and I feared no gods. I wasn't going anywhere without a fight.

I wasn't going anywhere at all.

I grasped his shoulder, squeezed. "Hell yes I am," I told him, absolute certainty etched in every word for the first time.

"Promise?"

"I promise." I fixed my eyes on Loki after I said the words. He stared right back, emotionless, his knife tightly gripped in one hand.

Niko relaxed a tiny, tiny bit, and his skin took back more color. "You'd better," he said, calmer now in the eye of the storm. He spun on the bench to face Cal. "And you?"

Cal smirked, and climbed slowly to his feet. He walked over and tugged at Niko's braid. "Rest assured, Cyrano. No way I'm ever dying by the hands of some lightning slinging lab rat off his meds. That's just embarrassing. Damn right I promise."

I started to say something else but paused as I heard quick footsteps pounding down the hallway. Niko stood, warily unsheathing his katana. He half relaxed when Robin rounded the corner into the room, nearly pushing Loki to the ground in his haste. "Rise up and arm yourselves, brethren. Once more unto the breach."

Loki scowled, straightened his suit jacket. "Whatever is bedeviling you _now,_ puck?"

"Tyr?" I asked apprehensively, letting Niko tug me to my feet. I snatched up Odin's spear.

"Who else? Apparently the psychopathic bringer of justice grew bored waiting for us to resurface and decided to stomp on the anthill. Considering that the anthill in his situation is, in fact, _Asgard,_ I'd say he's just joined the ranks of the most nonsensical souls, stupider even than Ixion, and _he_ had the gall to have sex with Hera and wound up on a wheel of flames for all eternity. Believe me, Zeus does not do diplomacy. Oh, and Caliban?"

"What?" I asked, making my way to his side.

He swallowed hard. "It's been a long and perilous several days, but I _do_ recall you mentioning that you've defeated the Auphe in the future, yes?"

My left foot dragged across the dirt floor as the weight of that sentence settled on my shoulders. Warning bells rang inside my head. "Yes."

"Oh good," Robin continued, oozing with cheer, "That'll help."

I waited a few moments for him to elaborate, but he did not.

"Robin?" Niko prodded for me, katana drawn and ready, keeping an eye on the opposite edge of the hall. "Explain."

He smiled apologetically at me, then at Cal. "Well, it seems Tyr tired of his shadow weasels and brought some...additional reinforcements."

I stared at him. No. Fucking _no._ "How many?"

"Odin's ravens have spotted twenty. At least. I haven't seen any as of yet, but..."

Cal hissed deep in his throat, clutching his Desert Eagle like it was all that was keeping him sane. It had been...what? Two years since the Auphe had taken him, dragged him away on a two year all expenses paid vacation to their own private hell. No matter what the therapists said, time didn't heal that kind of shit. He'd never live long enough to forget that trauma. I knew that firsthand. Eight years older and I still hadn't forgotten.

"Twenty," I repeated flatly. Not so many, though in this particular year even facing one would have posed a challenge to Niko and me. But why? Why ally himself with the Auphe? Was Tyr really such a coward that he needed help from the oldest killers on Earth? Was he really that scared of...

I paused, a smile twisting the corners of my mouth as I came to a delicious conclusion. Tyr didn't need the Auphe, not with what he could do on his own. That left only one possible explanation for involving them.

Me.

He was scared of me. Showing his fear.

" _Weak,"_ I said, and laughed, twisting the sound into something ugly, "So unlike a god...and so very much like a sheep."

"Cal?" Nik questioned softly.

I ignored him, and instead flicked my newly red eyes toward my younger counterpart as I yanked my Eagle from the holster. I wouldn't be needing it. I had...other weapons. _Better_ weapons. "Here ya go, junior," I said, and tossed him the gun, "Merry Christmas. Looks like you get to watch the real monster at work. Same warnings still apply, so don't attempt to gate unless you're about to die. All that fun stuff."

Tyr thought he could take us out with a handful of Auphe? What a sucker. Twenty Auphe was nothing. Twenty Auphe was _fun._

"Don't worry guys." My smile widened unnaturally into something inhumanly vicious as I wrapped the fingers of my Auphe glove around the doorframe. "I can play his game."

 **Please Review!**


	15. The Auphe

**_Thank you for your feedback! I love hearing from each of you. Enjoy the next chapter._**

 ** _..._**

 ** _Niko_**

 _Nik,_

 _Hey there big brother. Deep breaths, okay? Please. I know what you're thinking, but this is NOT a sappy goodbye letter. I don't do those, and I'm not dying. Now listen to me. I know you, and I know you're the polar opposite of your usual Zen self right now, and it's my fault. No surprise there. But Nik, if I had a dollar for every time you told me I was a stubborn asshole, I'd be living in a penthouse with a theater sized flat screen and my own personal suite of shiny guns. You're right. I'm stubborn, I'm an asshole, and I'm coming back. Swear._

 _If Robin gives you this when he's supposed to, Odin's on his way over to give you back the memory he took eight years ago. It's gonna be a sucky memory. Don't you dare pull an idiot move and start blaming yourself for anything, or I'll kick your ass the second I get back._ _Oh, and if a massive wolf shows up at some point, feed him, don't shoot him, that sort of thing. I'll be seeing you soon, Cyrano._

 _-Cal_

 _P.S.- Goodfellow, I know you're reading this. Hell, I'd be shocked if you didn't stick your nose where it didn't belong. Here's a present for you, something to keep you occupied, bother the crap out of you, and help us all out in the long run. Sorry I couldn't leave more detail, but I don't want to try to change the future. That never ends well in the movies._

 _The nuke will work._

 _Terminator isn't the burden._

 _The plague of the world can be killed._

 _Two crowns._

 _Loki must be at the party._

 _The spider venom won't be permanent._

 _Icarus fell, but I won't._

 _*17 Sept: 1:00 a.m._ _Use the tracker_ _*_

I finished reading the letter and immediately revisited the words, paying close attention to the actual message now that my heart had ceased its frantic pounding. His letter was far more reassuring than anything he had said earlier in the alley. He obviously known I'd be going out of my mind with worry, and he'd tried to fix it. That was Cal all over. "You've had this for six years?" I finally said, momentarily at a loss to come up with anything else.

"Six years, yes. Six years of unravelling the most exasperatingly cryptic prophesies I've ever encountered, truly, even more so than the words of Nostradamus. Like Cal himself, it's all morosely out of order, undated, vague. I've wasted hours attempting to tear apart those damnable hints of his, but mostly I figured each out at the last possible moment. In particular, the 'terminator isn't the burden' tidbit drove me practically _mad."_

"Janus," I muttered.

"Yes, of course it's obvious _now_ ," he shot back irritably, "But it was nearly too late before I made the connection and dug up the truth on the Vayash and your detestable father. Not to mention, every year since you put that chip into your brother in case of emergencies I've sat up all night every single gamou September seventeenth-"

"Today is the sixteenth," I interrupted warily. I looked down at my wrist before remembering that earlier I'd surrendered the watch to a watery grave in the sink. "Time?"

"Nearly eight. We have several hours yet. If...you know..."

Goodfellow kindly didn't speak the words aloud, but I knew what he meant. Cal was coming back, but when? Early the next morning? Next _year?_ Ten years from now? I frowned and pushed the dark thoughts back. Soon. He'd be back soon, and he would be alright. Anything less was unacceptable.

 ** _..._**

 **Cal**

It had been several minutes, and I'd yet to hear an ominous creek in the dark or see a telltale sliver of white. Then again, the Auphe had always been a calculating bunch of schemers. They'd stalked me for _years_ before they made their first move. Hovered. Waited. Bided their time peering through windows. So tediously predictable. I could tell the suspense was making the others jumpier than a kid in a bounce house, though. Yeah it sucked knowing there were twenty monsters eager to whisk you off to some hellish wasteland to nibble your toes and feast from there on up. Who _wouldn't_ that terrify?

"Tyr must've bused the kiddies into Asgard for a field trip. They couldn't have gated here themselves, or I'd have felt it," I told the others quietly, as I shut my eyes to block out all distractions and concentrated. The musty chill of the room settled deep in my lungs and pitched a tent there, with ghost stories and toasted marshmallows galore. _Where are you, little crocodiles? Tick tock._

My stomach twisted. Left. Past the arch. Eyes opened just in time to see the hungry gray swirl before I slammed it closed. A long, pale arm with slender fingers dropped to the dirt floor beside Cal's boot, still twitching.

"Upside," I said cheerfully, watching as the spasms slowed and Junior kicked it away, "Any Auphe I disembowel are less you'll deal with a year from now when all the fun _really_ starts. I'm talking possession and poisonous spiders the size of rottweilers and serial killers with the munchies. Oh, and did I ever tell you guys about the time we had a nuke? Good times."

Robin was pale, back pressed against the arch across from me to put as much distance between himself and the severed limb as he could. "Are you attempting to lighten the mood? If so, desist."

I squinted past him into the hallway on the sliver of chance that the killers switched up their game and walked over. It was a longshot, but even longshots had the ability to bite me in the ass. The Auphe wouldn't be coming one at a time anymore, though. Not after I'd shed first blood in their game. "Odin? Thor?"

Goodfellow shook his head. "I know only that the gods are elsewhere, I'm afraid."

Loki sneered and pulled a sword from his hilt. "Elsewhere," he spat, "As expected. Manipulating others to fight their battles as they lie in wait for a convenient outcome."

I was starting to understand just why Loki hated everyone. Maybe he wasn't the black sheep of the family, maybe he'd just been screwed over one or ten or fifty too many times. He was on point. Odin was using us, using _me,_ just like Tyr was using the Auphe. But the Auphe didn't know me, not yet. Not this me.

They were in for the shock of their indecently long lives.

The rush came in a single breath. Ten gaping silver holes slashed across the space to admit an equal number of Auphe that proceeded to circle us like a troupe of serial killing decuplets. Mommy must be _so_ proud. They herded us into a cluster and loomed with jaws agape, dripping saliva.

Tyr appeared behind them, next to the fireplace. "I see your days of running have reached their summit, and nowhere to flee."

"Hey, you chatty bastard. I've missed you," I drawled with a flash of teeth, "Here to try your luck at killing Cal again? Oooooh the suspense."

Tyr stepped forward impassively, the ringleader of circus monsters. The finger bones woven through his hair clinked eerily in the silence. "No. The Vigil are worthless, and I serve to follow them no more," he cut off and rubbed his left hand over the cauterized stump of his right, "If Cal dies, I am snuffed out as well. A superfluous notion. Who would judge the world if I was gone? Who could redeem it?"

"If you think the Auphe are going to redeem the world, you're a basket case," I said, lip curling, "They used to stop by my apartment on occasion, you know, to borrow a cup of sugar, splatter my blood up the walls, that kinda thing. Not the redeeming type." I wanted to attack, god I wanted to, but I had to wait. I had to listen. I had to be human, mannerly Cal, just for a little longer.

"Agreement," the nearest Auphe hissed in a voice of gargled gravel. His, her, I don't know, goddamn _its_ red eyes pierced through Cal with a tumultuous longing. "Our deal. Our _property._ "

Niko shifted sideways to put himself between the creature and his brother, and Cal scowled and gave his elbow an annoyed tug of disapproval. I knew what mini-me was thinking, that they could take Niko away as easily as they might take him. Hell, they could take any one of us, but that wasn't going to do them a shitload of good since I could just follow and beat the piss out of them. Still, it was days like this that I missed carrying around that nuke.

"I am awarding the Auphe full custody of eighteen-year-old Cal. He _is_ half theirs, legally. As long as they can keep him alive and out of the way in Tumulus for a few more years, a measly couple days here on Earth, I will award them with positions of power after Ragnarok, after I have built up a new, better world," Tyr said, looking terribly pleased with himself.

Niko backed closer to Cal, face set with fury as his greatest fear was made real. "No," he growled, katana raised. "Never again."

"He will be fine, sheep. He will not recall the ordeal, and will be none the worse for it," he said, leering at Niko, "But perhaps I will give him back the memory when he returns, see how much he can remember before he spirals into insanity."

There was no way any version of me was spending more than the original hellish two forgotten years down there. It _wasn't_ fucking happening. Screw Lazarus and his new circle of friends.

Garm stood to his full height as a room shaking growl tore from his throat. I clenched a fist briefly in his fur and tugged, silently willing him to stand down.

"What do _you_ think, Caliban? Will the couple days your younger counterpart spends away be enough for me to end your miniscule existence? I believe so. You already mimic a walking corpse quite skillfully."

I nudged Cal to get his attention. "Ignore the geezer. No one's dragging you off to Tumulus," I told him with a roll of my eyes, blatantly refusing to give Tyr the acknowledgement he craved, "And if by some _miracle_ one of the Auphe gets hold of you and yanks you through a gate, I'll follow and bring you back faster than Robin could navigate a nude beach."

"Good to know," he breathed, knuckles white around his Eagle.

God, everyone was so fucking _tense_. As if this was really even a contest, as if the Auphe could win. I smirked and gated without warning. Reappeared aside the nearest Auphe and raked Titanium claws neatly from groin to chin. _Surprise, fuckers._ I disappeared before the body began to fall, reappeared, sliced through the neck of the second freak. I tossed the head into the air, then gated to the next victim as their eyes followed the skull's arc.

One emerged from a gate behind me, and I opened a hole inside his chest. Black blood splattered across my head, neck, shoulders, and I was gone again.

Reappeared. The fourth monster was the amputee from earlier, reaching for Cal with bony fingers. I neatly snapped his remaining appendage in half and tore the useless limb away at the elbow, then lunged forward to rip out half his throat with my teeth. I spat the chunk of flesh. "You," I hissed through the blood, English or not, who knew, who gave a damn. I gated again, behind the next.

"Are not." Fifth. Disemboweled.

Gate.

" _Worthy_ ," Number six. Severed spine. Ripped throat.

Gone. Back.

Seven. Slit open, entrails slipping to the floor. "Obsolete _._ _Filth._ "

My eyes met Cal's right before I disappeared again, just long enough for me to catch his expression. He looked...calm. _Calm?_

I reappeared behind the last three, who had used their time to ring themselves around Cal to take him. Cal had his back against Niko's, and fired his Eagle at the closest nightmare as it opened a gate, claws snagging in his sleeve. The bullets didn't even phase it. Loki swung his sword in an arc, injuring one of the other two but not putting it down. Cal struggled against his captor's grip, feet planted firmly against the floor but still slipping, inching closer. Nik shouted and wrapped his arm around Cal as he felt his brother jerk sideways toward the gate.

"Over here," I hissed gutturally in Auphe into the offending creature's ear, and red eyes snapped to meet mine, teeth bared, claws raised. The gate ripped wider beside us, defiant and hungry. This one had seen me kill the others, but didn't care. Arrogant.

Damn, this was fun. I'd forgotten how fun. Had I missed it? Fucking _no_. I raised my hands and lazily flicked my fingers at the last three. "Boom."

They exploded with a hollow thunk and a cloud of black blood, severed limbs, and shards of bone that arced through the space like macabre rain. Their gate closed with the pop of a bubble. Niko sagged against his brother, arm still a protective weight over his shoulder. All in all, that was ten down in less than twenty seconds. I laughed, and the sound was unnervingly loud over the crackling fire and the muffled whimpers of one or two Auphe that were only ninety-five percent dead, clinging futilely to life like the cankerous sores they were. Bastards.

Robin stood before me, mouth dropped open, his normally pristine clothes and hair splattered with organ gunk that he didn't even _try_ to wipe away. I didn't think I'd ever seen him look so startled before, even when I'd faced Grimm and fake threatened to rip off his dick. Huh. 'Course, he _had_ just met me last week. This kinda behavior had to break some sort of acquaintance code. Be polite, split the check, don't kiss on the first date, and _absolutely_ do not viciously dismember anyone in the near vicinity for at least a year or so. I always failed on that last one. He had a clump of white hair stuck to his jacket, and I reached over and helpfully brushed it away. That was me, Mr. Helpful.

Crisis averted, I wiped blood from my lips with the back of my hand and pivoted my attention to Tyr. "So..." I said, and smiled wider than any human, eyes dark as the blood dripping from my hands, "What was that plan of yours again?"

Tyr wiped a trail of blood from his cheek. He was trembling with anger, eyes crawling with runes.

"Teeming up with the Auphe. Bold move. I mean, I'd applaud, but your ego is already inflated to pop as is. But thanks, this has been a helluva blast. Exactly what I needed to blow off a bit of tension-"

"I have _more_ ," Tyr snarled, hand clenched at his side, "More Auphe at my disposal, more than you could ever imagine."

"Actually, I _can_ imagine. Lived through them, remember? Not exactly new and exciting-"

"They will snatch him from you, night, day, any moment he is alone, they will snatch him, and I will _dismember you_ , over the course of days, flay your skin, shatter your bones. Still less than you deserve for the trials you have put me through. I will still be created, and I will undo the world."

If possible, my smile widened even further until it felt like my face might split in half. "Wanna bet?"

Tyr vanished.

I smirked at the spot where he had been. Game, set, match. "Okay. Yeah. Enough of this shit, Odin's due a visit," I said pleasantly, and spun on my heel and began down the hallway. "Whaddaya think, throne room? I'm thinking throne room."

Loki lengthened his stride to match mine. "You _did_ defeat the Auphe in the future," he said incredulously.

"What, did you think I was lying?" I shot back at him. A gate opened beside Cal and an Auphe reached through, stretching for him in the cramped space. I glanced back and built a gate inside the freak, slammed its gate shut. Niko pushed Cal along, shoving him closer into the center of the group, closer to me.

"I will admit, I was...doubtful," Loki admitted with a shrug, ignoring the disturbance as we continued on like nothing had happened. "I seem to have been proven wrong, and that-"

"Move," Robin broke in testily, knocking Loki out of the way behind us. "You don't even like Caliban, you abhorrent fossil, you don't get to question him first. Now. How _exactly_ are you able to do any of that?"

I shrugged. "I'm Auphe."

"You are not Auphe," Niko reproached behind us with his favorite catchphrase.

"I'm _half_ Auphe," I corrected automatically, grinning darkly, "Comes with the territory."

Another gate slammed open, and I forced it shut just as smoothly before anything could even _attempt_ to pass through. They still weren't used to me yet, what I could do. I had to use that to my advantage while I could, before they smartened up. Before they adapted to the threat. Speaking of...

I turned slightly, looked directly at Cal. "What's your deal, exactly?" I questioned, searching for any signs of horror, boiling rage, growing insanity. The usual. I couldn't find a scrap of that sinister nature in him at the moment, which was was unsettling, possibly more so than being an Auphe target again.

He looked confused. "What?"

"You're being too damn calm about all this, kid," I said, rounding a pleasantly Auphe-free bend, "I mean...you just saw me, you know, behaving all _not_ human and shit. This is going to be you some day. Doesn't that...ah Jesus, hang on," I snapped. I kicked a door open. The hinges squealed as the heavy oak bashed against the surprised Auphe hiding there, and I reached in and held it still as I slammed it against him again, and again, and again.

It fell back dazedly as though shocked at the circumstances, then leapt to its feet with claws gleaming. "Pathetic wretch-" it snarled, and then met a swift end. Monster brain, meet my new toy, Gungnir. Less entertaining than a flamethrower, but then again, what could truly equal that joy? Nevertheless, the stick was effective. Odin could say what he wanted about runes, but nothing beat a gun, explosive, or big pointy thingamajig in my book. I yanked the spear free with a jerk, spraying blood and bone fragments behind me onto Robin's already mired wardrobe, eh, happy accident, and then turned back to Cal with the weapon rested on my shoulder. "There, see. Like that. Doesn't _that_ freak you the fuck out?"

"No. Not really."

I stopped walking, stared in disbelief. Because really, this wasn't right. Not really? _Not really?_ "Why the hell not?"

He shrugged. "I mean...you're handling this just fine. We're all alive, and you're still _you_ , and this is okay."

I stared at him in disbelief.

I believe the term you're searching for is role model," Robin said cheekily as he swiped some slimy goo from his shoulder, contemplated it, and then rubbed his hand off on Loki's jacket. Loki's expression turned murderous and he shoved him away.

"Shut it, Goodfellow," I said, rounding on the puck, "Have you been paying attention and, you know, _seen_ me lately? Gating and eviscerating, and...hell, I have so many mental and medical issues I could fill a therapist's schedule for a decade. So no. _No._ I'm not anything in the _vicinity_ of a role model. And also do you _want_ me to gate you to Antarctica to bunk with the polar bears and freeze your dick off?"

Robin smiled and placed his hands on his hips, stretched. "I was under the impression that you can only gate to places you've been or seen."

"I should've splattered you with more bodily fluids," I shot back, and then cringed as my brain caught up with my mouth.

His grin turned wolfish. "That depends on which type of bodily fluid you are speaking of, and whether it comes from your-"

I grabbed his shoulder and shoved him into the room with the dead Auphe, then continued down the hall.

"Albeit your tact and general disposition could use a good deal of woodshedding before you attempt further teachable moments," Robin called after me. I flipped him off over my shoulder. Come off it. I was a complete screw up, even tried to eat Bambi's mom once. I was no one's shining example of behavior. I'd spent _years_ going out of my mind with homicidal tendencies and fighting against my genetics. Was it even slightly possible that all I'd really needed was another not-quite-as-screwed-up half Auphe around to show me the ropes?

I glanced at Cal. He was smirking back at Robin as the puck climbed to his feet and loped after us. Smirking, learning, behaving less like an annoying kid every day and more like a stubborn asshole...

Shit.

We rounded the final corner toward the throne room, and were met with five more Auphe. Double shit. They waited in a line, hunched over, bear trap teeth dripping with anticipation of the kill. My arm was already throbbing again, probably bleeding through the gauze from the previous exertion. I groaned and reached over, patted Garm. He leaned against me until I had to strain to not topple over, all the while his hopeful red eyes seared into mine. "What do you say, big guy? Us adults are going inside to have a... _boring_ discussion with Odin," I said with a jeer, telling myself for the tenth or so time that I _wasn't_ going to stab the All-Father with his own spear. I tilted my head toward the Auphe and elbowed the wolf. "Go wild, Cujo."

He leapt faster than I remembered, crossing the stretch of hallway in a fraction of a second to snatch up the first unlucky victim in his jaws with a sickening crunchcrunchcrunch. He tossed the body, trampled the next into the floor, dodged a gate, and plowed claws first into the others like they were a line of bowling pins. "Atta boy," I muttered. As I opened the silver door to the throne room, I hoped Garm ripped the bastards to pieces and buried their bones in Odin's flowerbed next to the daffodils.

We slid inside the grandiose space, careful to keep Cal in the middle just in case there was another batch of fiends hiding in the woodwork. Odin lounged on his throne, elbows on his knees, watching us.

"Thanks for the help, by the way. Real sweet of you," I said distastefully as I made my way the the base of the silver staircase. Of course, if I thought _I_ was angry, it didn't hold a candle to how Niko felt by the look of it. His eyes were slits, his mouth a slanted scar. He had one hand clenched around his sword and the other fixed even tighter to his brother's wrist. If looks could kill...

Odin had taken Cal and me somewhere without his permission. It didn't matter a bit that it'd been a trippy shamanic walk and we hadn't physically _gone_ anywhere, he'd still taken us. He'd _lied_ to us. He'd carved runes into my skin, given me an ancient weapon. He'd left us to our own devices against the creatures that had hunted me since birth. Needless to say, Odin was at the tippy tip top of my brother's shit list.

A growl shook the hallway outside, and I used the interruption to jab Niko in the side, hard. His narrowed gaze redirected to me, and I poked him again, even harder. "Breathe," I said under my breath, climbing another step.

"But Cal, he-"

"I know. I don't trust him either, Cyrano. But don't do anything drastic or violent, not now. Be _you_ , okay? Calm, levelheaded, smart. Don't be me. There's too many of me running around these days anyhow. It's disturbing."

His hand clenched tighter around his sword for a moment, and then relaxed. He didn't release his grip on Cal, though. I'd have needed a crowbar to manage that.

Odin leaned forward on his throne. "You needed no assistance from me to take care of the Auphe. You have all persevered on your own."

"How very children's television of you," I snipped back, reaching the top.

"Wake up Odin. You can manipulate us all you please, but that won't alter the situation," Robin said, stepping around the outstretched paw of one of the wolves resting beside the throne. The beast yawned and stretched, then closed its eyes once more. "Getting rid of a few Auphe doesn't do anything about Tyr. He is the real threat. He's set on removing Cal from the picture, keeping him alive so he can live on as well."

"And I _will_ live on," Tyr spoke beside me.

I whirled, claws slashing to meet only air as he vanished in the next second. I swore a string of curses and slapped my glove against my leg. "This would be so much easier if everyone would just quit the magic shit and walk around like normal people."

"Like you?" Cal teased, lowering his Eagle.

"Shut up," I said indignantly.

Odin stroked the raven on his shoulder, face serene and thoughtful. "I am sure he and I can come to a civil agreement. Do not fear," he said confidently. He stood tall and stretched, then adjusted his blue robes around his ankles. He raised a hand, golden rings flashing in the sunlight that drifted through the glass panels overhead. "Tyr? Enough. I would have a word with you."

The air remained unbroken for a few seconds, as though the call had been unheeded, but then Tyr appeared in a swirl of lightning and sparks. He stayed a safe distance away, on the other side of the throne. Although he was ballsy enough around the rest of us, it seemed the presence of Odin had his usual hubris in a bind.

"Surrender the child to me, and I will leave peacefully," he said, and I was unable to hold back a snort. What a joke. Peacefully? Yeah, the world might erupt in flames and the sky roll black as everything ended, but at least it would go _peacefully._

"I only wish to talk," Odin said, stepping back in the midst of the rest of us. He folded his arms and tilted his head. "Can we not speak civilly as we were wrought to do in days of old?"

Tyr smiled coldly. "I fear our present desires lie on opposite ends of the spectrum, Wotan. Talking will not bring order."

"I see," Odin said regretfully, shoulders sagging as wrinkles seemed to fill every inch of his face. He suddenly looked old, frail. He sighed, then whipped his arm forward and ensnared Cal in an efficient headlock, knife pressed against his throat. "Get back," he said coldly, dragging him out of our group, toward his throne.

I stared, shock quickly replaced by a fury that seethed through my gut like wildfire. Niko still had his hand tight around Cal's wrist, in case the Auphe attacked, god, _what a fucking_ _laugh_ , and now Odin gave him a threatening glare. "Release your grip," the god ordered, eyeing Niko's sword with disinterest, "Or I will slit your brother's throat now and be done with any further proceedings."

Niko's grip tightened momentarily, knuckles whitening to match Cal's skin tone. Cal twisted his fingers up around Niko's wrist, gave him a light squeeze. "It's okay, Cryano," he said softly.

The hell it was.

Nik lowered his sword and stepped back, shaking as he released his brother. "You double dealing bastard," he snarled, eyes never leaving Cal's face.

Odin dragged Cal back a few more feet, closer to Tyr. "You want young Cal alive, Tyr. _You_. The one handed god, leavings of the wolf," he said, blade glinting against his captive's skin, "But I cannot condone the coming of Ragnarok."

Tyr scowled and reached out, then drew his arm back, unsure. "You would really kill him?"

"A pawn? One pawn, above all lives in the Nine Worlds? Yes, I would kill him."

Niko flinched. I grasped his arm, held him still. There was nothing he could do. He, human, even a badass ninja human, could never hope to reach his brother before getting struck down in present company. Even _I_ was having a damnable time picking the lesser of two evils to charge. I could gate, perhaps catch one god off guard. But who? Should I attack Tyr, who wanted younger me holed up in hell until I was out of the way, or Odin, who wanted younger me dead this very moment. Both options were oh so delightful. Again, fucking gods. I hoped they both died truly agonizing deaths, and soon.

"I cannot allow that, old friend," Tyr warned the All-Father, taking a step forward. Runes appeared in his eyes, twisted in columns down his face. "I am stronger now, even more than you. I will take the child, I will hide him, I will keep him from you."

Odin pressed the blade closer, causing Cal to flinch back, holding his breath.

Robin stepped forward. "Skata. Hold on, both of you," he interrupted hotly, rubbing a hand over his face like a parent that had run low on patience. "You are behaving as spoiled school boys with skinned knees and melted ice cream. You're acting _human._ There is a solution, you know. Perhaps if you could stop bickering for a moment you might notice."

Odin retracted his steel by a centimeter, and Cal took a shuddering breath. "Getting real... _tired_...of all this kidnapping...shit," he ground out through clenched teeth, then glared at the god that held him.

Quick flashes of gray had me turning sharply to the side. A crowd of Auphe lurched through gates and clustered at the foot of the staircase, twenty or more, nightmarish beady eyes all stared upward through stringy white hair. They crouched, breathed, looked to Tyr as though he was the Sun.

Tyr flicked his hand in a signal to halt, and the lot of them paused, teeth glinting in the light, waiting.

"Nik," Cal said, and then waited until his brother met his eye. "I know. Don't look at them...Okay? I'm still...here," he said, ignoring the miniscule trickle of blood that slid down his throat.

Niko clenched his hands into fists at his sides. His posture was so rigid he looked about ready to snap in two.

Odin turned to Goodfellow calmly, as though there weren't a circle of ancient assassins swarming our position. "Go on, little goat."

Robin likewise didn't spare the Auphe a glance. "Loki. Give Tyr your Kyntalash," he began, and then held up a hand as the god of lies scowled and tried to protest, "Tyr and Caliban have to fight in the future, in _Caliban's_ _present._ That alone makes sense and is fair for all parties involved." He stepped closer to Tyr, careful to avoid the streaks of lightning that still swirled about him, "Tyr, right now Odin can slit Cal's throat and end you. But in the future, Cal is grown up and there is no possibility of killing a younger Cal and altering the time line. It will be a fair fight. If you win, Ragnarok will be practically yours. If Caliban wins...well, there will be no more _you_ , for starters. It is a win win situation," he trailed off, and smiled dangerously. "Unless, of course, you'd prefer Odin just slice Cal open now and extinguish your chance."

Odin smiled. A full teeth, hungry shark smile. A _pleased_ smile, like he'd heard what he'd been wanting all along. "Tyr?" he questioned.

The second bowed his head, hollow bones rattling once more as he paused, considered the offer. "Very well," he said finally, "In the future, then. That will be right."

The All-Father nodded. "Go," he said, knife still at Cal's throat, "And take your unseemly pets away with you. Return in twenty minutes, alone, and we will be ready for the exchange."

Tyr hesitated, as though preparing to revolt against the delay, but then he smiled wide and vanished with a mocking bow. The Auphe stepped back through their gates and were gone.

Loki stared at the spot Tyr had disappeared, then swiveled his eyes to Robin. "I pray you know what you're doing, puck."

Odin waited another heartbeat and then released Cal, and Niko darted forward and snatched a hold of him, yanked him back from the god. "You fucking bastard," Niko snarled, eyes burning like fire. "I don't care who you are, you never touch him again, you goddamn asshole, you understand? _Never_."

All that he said in one single breath. I held my own breath as I made my way to his side, silently hoping that Niko wouldn't actually try to attack the god, even though he wanted to. More than anything. Odin had officially crossed every line when he'd held a knife to Cal's throat. All previous diplomacy was out the goddamn window and melting in the street. I tried to think of a way to put a positive spin on the situation and came up with nada, snake eyes.

The large silver door jerked open, and Garm padded in slowly, covered in blood, wary as he studied our current situation.

Niko didn't bother to wait for a response before he rounded on Robin. "And _you._ That is _not_ a 'win win' plan, for fuck's sake. One of them will _die_. Tyr or Cal. Cal could still die. Do you not understand that? Or do you just not care?"

Goodfellow flinched back as though struck. A muscle in his jaw twitched. I knew what he was remembering, long ago, in Troy. Me, Patroclus, dying, and Niko...

"Nik, stop," I said firmly, stepping between them. "Enough. It's a _good_ plan. Better than anything I could have dreamed up, and it gives us a shot. A decent chance, and really...that's all we could ask for at this point. Right?"

He didn't respond, didn't even register that I'd spoken.

"It's a good plan," Cal said, making an effort to keep the hoarse rasp out of his voice. He looked at Robin over my shoulder and gave him a weak smile. "I say we go for it."

Goodfellow's expression brightened a smidgeon. His lips curled to show he appreciated the effort.

Niko still didn't speak.

"Hey. I won't die. I promised, remember?"

At _that_ , Niko looked at me. He shook his head, and then a laugh burst from his lips. "That's a _ridiculous_ thing to promise, you idiot," he said, and punched me lightly in the shoulder. "You can't know for sure."

"Then I'll just be sure to keep breathing. For _sure_ ," I said obstinately, grinning as I gave his braid a hard tug.

Odin studied us impassively. Both ravens returned to settle on his shoulders, and he turned and made his way down the staircase. "We must hurry. We have much to do, and little time."

 **Please Review!**


	16. Jump Forward

**Cal**

"Twenty minutes, huh?" Cal murmured distastefully the moment Odin's back was turned. "Couldn't he have tried a bit harder, maybe got us a day?"

I subconsciously stepped between Odin and the others. My fingers itched, burned with the desire to take my spear and run him through. _Traitor._ Bloodthirsty. Manipulative. The hungry shark masquerading as a kindly old relative, the untrustworthy liar. If I wasn't _absolutely_ _certain_ that we needed his help, I'd have gated us as far away from him as possible and never looked back.

I rotated my neck so that I could see Junior over my shoulder as we walked. "Maybe. Before or after he threatened to slit your throat?"

Cal's eyes narrowed even further. "That _jackass_ ," he hissed under his breath at the god, fingertips lingering on his gun for a moment before he sighed and crossed his arms instead. Niko didn't even attempt to rebuke him for the insult, and that alone proved that years of hero worship had been nixed in a single afternoon. Then again, Niko and I had both read enough history to know that we _shouldn't_ have trusted him. But...damn. Hindsight was a bitch.

Odin raised his arm as he exited the throne room, and both ravens alighted on his soft blue cloak. "We must return to your mortal dwellings to make plans and wipe your memories of the past week. My wife Frigg took it upon herself to have your apartments cleaned...although I believe the term 'gutted and rebuilt' is more apt to describe the dismal state of your quarters, puck."

Robin eyebrows shot toward the ceiling and he jogged a bit to catch up. "You fixed my place?" he asked, hopeful undertones shining through the disbelief.

"Yes. It would be staggeringly suspicious if your rooms were filled with blood, sand, and ocean water when you woke up tomorrow morning."

Loki's lips twisted. "Truly you needn't have tidied up, brother. I doubt Goodfellow would have even noticed the mess, probably would have imagined a rather fantastical orgy had taken place the previous evening while his brain was swimming in ninety proof. Mermaids, perhaps? Salmon or catfish if his standards are rather low, which they undoubtedly are at this stage in time."

"That's real hubristic coming from _you_ , the shapeshifting fool who's slept with nearly the entire hull of Noah's ark," Robin snapped dangerously, eyeing him with distaste.

" _Increasingly_ interesting coming from the puck who's laid beside nearly every single goddess _and_ wood nymph-"

"Can we focus? _Please?"_ I snapped, pushing the two apart as though they were children, "We have twenty minutes. I have a migraine, and damn if I haven't already heard enough about each of your sex lives to make me want to spend the rest of my life in a monastery."

"But _he-"_

"No!" I hissed, giving each of them another shake before letting go. A few drops of blood dripped from my glove where the claws had pierced Loki's arm. I turned away from them with one last exasperated look. Goddamn it, I was surrounded by ancient beings and I felt like the only adult. I didn't do adulting. Adulting sucked. Next I'd be dusting, buying healthy dinner options and watering potted plants. Domestic. _Why_ was I the responsible one all of the sudden, anyway? It wasn't my fault that Nik was the little brother, for however temporary a time.

I returned my attention to Odin, who had halted and watched the exchange with open amusement. My mood fell even further. "What are we waiting for?"

"I, personally, am waiting for silence," he said pleasantly, "Though such peace is difficult to achieve in the present company. Gate us into Robin's apartment whenever you are ready, Caliban."

I raised an eyebrow. Gate us to Robin's apartment, huh? Sure, I wouldn't mind chopping off one of the All-Father's legs in a gating accident. I made the rip in front of us instead, held it open with rigid self control. "You first, Gandalf," I told him coldly.

He regarded me with fondness as he stepped through the rift.

"Tell me," Robin said, pinching the bridge of his nose, "That your gate doesn't lead to a lava pit or something of the like."

"Nah, just to your living room," I said with a wicked flash of teeth, "Surprised? Can't say I didn't _consider_ sending him elsewhere, though, the crooked prick."

Loki snorted. He reached out toward the gate and dangled his fingers playfully in the tear, watching as the digits vanished up to the knuckle and reappeared as he drew his hand back once again. "Face it, Aupheling. _I'm_ starting to look the more trustworthy god, am I right?"

"Yeah. You're trustworthy alright, a real dependable boy scout," I grumped, "Now quit toying with the transportation and go before I sever your fingers."

The god of lies stepped through the portal followed closely by Garm, who slouched to fit into the swirling mass. Once we were all on the other side I let the silver hole collapse. Upon first glance, it was obvious that Odin hadn't exaggerated about the renovations. The furniture was whole once again, sans the salt water. There was no electrical damage, no broken bottles, no floundering fish. Robin slowly lowered himself onto the couch, and I felt a stab of guilt as I noticed his grim expression and Niko's hunched over uneven breathing. "Sorry," I muttered.

Niko reached over and patted my leg, gave me a small smile before dropping his head back down.

Cal kept a hand on Niko's back as his brother slowly regained his normal color.

"You good?" I asked quizzically.

"Eh, I'm just dandy," Cal said, voice tinged with annoyance, "Getting held at knifepoint is apparently what I do these days."

"I meant the gate."

He shrugged. "Oh. That. Yeah, I'm okay. No big deal," he said. He began to say something else but stopped, frowned. He silently jabbed a finger behind me toward the opposite side of the room.

I turned to spot a woman, blonde hair swept up in curls. Her crimson dress swirled around her ankles as she moved lightly across the room to plant a kiss on Odin's cheek. "Here so soon?"

"We are neither early nor late, Frigg, dearest," Odin said cheerfully as he swept his hand over the couch like a prudish mother-in-law checking the top shelf to ensure that _all_ the cleaning had been done. "As always, your work is impeccable. I am in your debt," he said with a smile, pushing a curl back from her shoulder.

She caught his hand and kissed it. "I assume you were all able to reach an agreement with the dissenter," she said warmly. She released her husband and turned to me, and I was unnerved as she reached out as though to place a hand against my cheek.

I flinched back. "Don't take it personally, but I have a strict no touch policy when it comes to gods," I told her warily, placing a good two feet of space between us. _Especially when they're married to Odin._

"My wife knows the destiny of all beings," Odin said pointedly, placing emphasis on each word. He ignored my discomfort as he settled down on the opposite end of the couch from Robin. He picked up a small glass elephant and turned it slowly in his fingers, allowing it to catch the light and glimmer.

"Destiny, huh? Mind sharing with the class, lady?"

She extended her arm and ran slender fingers over my eyes. A ruby set in a ring of gold twisted and caught the light. "There is no honor in Tyr. Be his misery, not his reflection."

I reached out, snared her wrist, and pushed it politely away from my face. "Anything _helpful_ to add?" I asked icily, "Or do all you seers enjoy being spitefully secretive all the damn time?"

Robin cleared his throat pointedly. I ignored him.

Everything about this woman, right down to her soothing expression, made me want to run to the nearest ice cream parlor and start flipping tables. It was like dealing with George all over again. Flavor of the day? Cherry Antifreeze, with ribbons of Destiny Will Come. Throw some fiery hair on this woman and they could've been twins, played ding-dong-ditch at all the supernatural hideouts together, taken turns having visions and _not_ telling people anything.

Robin cleared his throat _again,_ sharper this time. Oh yeah, Odin's wife. Whoops. My bad. I released her wrist, and as she lowered her arm I saw that I'd left behind fingernail impressions on her skin. No blood, though. I'd been good.

The goddess gave me a final calming smile before she turned and wordlessly headed for the door. After it closed silently behind her, I let out the breath I'd been holding, relieved that I was still in one piece, shocked that I was still on Earth, and nearly giddy that I was still breathing. Gotta treasure the little things, these days. I wrinkled my nose at the strange scent left behind. Leaves and grass, and the deep musk of soil. That damn World Tree, the Yggdrasil. She had reeked of it.

"Your social skills need work, as does your common sense," Robin griped, "That woman is both a powerful seer and sorceress, and wields enough magic to have you waking up tomorrow either blind and deaf or with the ironclad belief that you're an oyster."

I smirked. "Look at you, using the 'M' word. I'm so proud."

"It appears we have arrived at the business end of these trials," Odin said serenely, interrupting our discussion as though I hadn't just threatened his wife. He leaned forward and placed the glass trinket back on the coffee table, then smoothed down his cloak and clasped his hands lightly in his lap. "I move that we discuss timing. Caliban, you should fight Tyr on a Saturday."

" _Saturday?_ I'm sorry, are we working around the bastard's nine to five job at Analtech? Should we let him sleep in?" I kicked my foot lightly against an end table that I knew for a fact had been reduced to hunks of plywood in the ocean water gating fiasco. It was sturdy, fixed.

"Pay attention," he rebuked, and waited until my unenthusiastic eyes were fixed in his direction to continue. "Ragnarok is _prophesized_ to come on a Saturday. The possibility of success may embolden Tyr, make him sloppy and overconfident."

"And if he manages to kill me?"

"Then the world will likely end. On a Saturday," Odin concluded brightly, unconcerned.

" _Gamisou_. You're talking about the end times, you one-eyed soapbox orator," Robin snapped, pushing himself up off the couch. "Show a bit of tact before you toss Caliban into the allegorical sea of monsters."

Odin sat back, unperturbed. He ignored Robin and kept his gaze focused on me. "To minimalize casualties, I suggest you pick a date in winter, when it is unlikely that many pedestrians will wander into the fray. Perhaps February?"

Cal flicked my arm. "What month did you _leave?_ " he asked pointedly, and then to motioned Niko with the tiniest tilt of his head. Niko's expression was carefully blank, though he was fighting hard to keep it so. I understood. It would be difficult, no, _impossible,_ for my brother to wait months for me to return, wondering if I was alive or dead.

"September," I admitted, unease shooting through me at the mere _thought_ of making my brother wait so long. "So no. No way. I'm not delaying that much till I pop up again."

"I understand your concerns, but you must reconsider," Odin said sternly.

I watched his ravens flutter upwards to perch on the ceiling fan. Robin smacked my hand down as I reached up for the pull cord. " _Killjoy,"_ I mouthed.

"In fact," Odin snipped, voice rising in annoyance, "I insist that you schedule your return _much_ later, maybe fifteen or twenty years from now instead of the previously travelled eight. After all, there is a possibility you _will_ fail. If Tyr does prove the better fighter, the world may end. Would you not give humans a few extra years of life? Happiness?"

 _That_ had my attention back, one-hundred percent. I bit back a growl of frustration. Years? _Years?_ Had he been listening to me? I didn't want to wait _months,_ let alone anything beyond that. I watched my brother's stony self control falter in that instant. He winced but bit his lip, trying to be honorable and not say anything. He noticed I was watching and turned away quickly, stared out the window like the rainy New York skyline was the most exciting thing he'd seen all day. He wouldn't object, I knew that beyond a shadow of a doubt. What decent human being would protest giving people more time to live? Who was that much of an asshole to consider that a sucky idea?

Me. I was.

"I am _not,_ " I hissed, leaning forward so that there was no chance of the god misunderstanding, "Making my brother wait five fucking months wondering if I'm ever gonna show up again. And _years?_ Forget it. _No_. Do not ask again or I will shove your rune covered spear so far up your ass that I'll be able to plant you by the interstate as a road sign."

Odin stood and frowned at me, irked at being challenged. "Your opinion matters _not,_ " he said icily, and as the seconds ticked by he appeared to loom higher and higher and soak up the shadows.

" _Really?_ Seems like _I'm_ the one doing the time traveling. Not you, a nearly forgotten god," I hissed, tapping the claws of my glove against his shoulder. "Face it. You're obsolete, pal. Dusty and sticky with cobwebs, on the back shelf. I could sell you for a dime at the neighborhood flea market."

Odin's face, every inch of his skin _,_ seemed to blur. Runes crawled slowly across his eye and down his neck. He crept closer until the two of us were separated by inches. "Caliban...do not test me," he warned, and his voice was everywhere all at once. It pulsed around the room and rattled around in my own mind until I could barely discern his voice from my own thoughts. The others flinched and stepped back. The lights dimmed, flickered, brightened again, and went out with a pop. Garm growled deep in his throat.

My lip curled. Seemed this was turning into a new hobby of mine, making gods lose their shit. Fun, yes, but it was getting us nowhere. I could argue with this asshole all day, hours and hours, until our voices cracked like ACDC's lead singer. He would never back down, and I...

Well.

If he really thought I was leaving my brother, he wasn't as wise as he claimed. Dim as a rock, actually.

"You will return on the third Saturday of February, in the year 2028," he ordered with finality. I winced. God, his _voice._ That must be one helluva party trick. I fought back the urge to fall to my knees and cower, and I wouldn't have been surprised if blood poured from my ears.

"Fine," I spat through clenched teeth, lying for all I was worth, "If you're going to throw a hissy fit, then _fine_. We'll go with your date _and_ year, you bossy little shit. Can I at least pick the time? I like to have a bit of say in group projects, makes me feel all tingly and accomplished inside."

I didn't look at Niko. If I looked at my brother and saw his face crumble, chances were my façade would too. I stared straight at Odin instead, projecting all my good vibes his way. Believe me, believe me, _believe me_ you scheming jackass.

"Yes. Excellent," Odin said, his original cheer snapping back into place. The lights returned, shadows receded, and runes faded to nothing as though he hadn't completely cracked moments ago. "What time, then?"

"Don't worry, I'll think of something. Probably nice and early so we safely avoid all the lovable stroller pushers and dog walkers...at least those of the human variety. After all, you're all about keeping people safe, huh?" I said cheekily. That reminded me. I nearly glanced down at my wrist before I remembered that _no,_ I was not wearing a watch, I was wearing goddamn ancient technology instead. Always fashionably ahead of the curve, that's me. "How long till our favorite psychopath returns?"

"Ten minutes," Niko said softly.

A lump rose in my throat. That was all? Ten minutes? Six hundred seconds 'till I was gonna have to make like Rambo through New York and jam a spear through the Vigil's prodigy? Well... _good_. Bring it on. I certainly didn't feel nervous about it. Hell no, not a tiny bit.

My stomach twisted, and not from fear this time. There had been a gate, somewhere. In the hallway? No.

Outside.

I caught a glimpse of crimson eyes through the nearest window, and then watched as claws dragged across the glass pane with a smear of blood. The creature leered, showing off row after row of jagged teeth.

Loki yanked the blind closed and then leapt up and settled dauntlessly on the windowsill. He swung his legs against the wall as he pried the Kyntalash from his arm. "Here, take this cursed thing and remove it from my sight. I've no desire to harbor it any longer," he said, and chucked it in my direction. The interwoven mass of red and black bands tumbled through the air and landed at my feet with a heavy clink.

I bent to pick it up, ignoring the scraping noises coming from behind the blind. I hated to admit it, fuck, I'd _never_ admit it, but it would have been nice to have Loki travel with me again and help me take out Tyr. I straightened up, bands in hand. "You throw like a tee-ball player. I'm embarrassed for you," I said, and ducked low again as a ceramic vase hurled neatly through the air where my head had been and shattered on the floor.

"Was that...is there an Auphe outside?" Robin asked, taken aback by our nonchalant dismissal of the ancient killer.

"Either that or your Halloween decorations arrived early. Looked pretty cheap to me; you should definitely get a refund."

"I'm never inviting any of you people over, not ever again," Goodfellow said irritably, grabbing a tight hold of my arm. He began walking, dragging me toward his bedroom. "I'm going to need to borrow Caliban for a moment...and, oh, Niko. You should come too. Cal as well, if only because I'd hate to separate the Siamese twins."

I managed to wrench my arm free moments after we arrived in the back. He kindly snapped the lights on and yanked down all the shades before he grabbed my shoulders and proceeded to throttle me. "How is it possible that none of my best qualities rubbed off on you in the future?" he snapped ruefully, and then let me go with a heavy sigh. "You have a sparse handful of minutes remaining till the dick stroking hangman comes forth. What agenda have you contrived in that mildewed attic you've christened a brain? Have you an endgame?"

"I have a plan," I assured him, and then frowned defensively when he didn't look convinced. "I _do._ Come on, it can't be that hard to believe."

"I believe it," Niko said quietly, picking absentmindedly at his braid. My focus instantly shifted to him. He was clearly trying to sound reassuring, but his voice...

It was like a thousand rusted nails down a thousand pristine chalkboards, and each screeching nail was hooked up to an amplifier. He was hurting, _scared,_ and outright determined not to let it show.

Cal beat me to the punch. "Stop that," he told his brother gently.

Niko blinked, and his frown deepened. "Stop...what?"

"Talking like you're never gonna see me again," I told him, jamming an elbow into his side. "Don't worry, Nik. I'm not really leaving you alone for twelve years. I'll figure it out. Okay?"

He looked away, miserable. "It is...possibly the right thing to do, Cal. Give people more time. You know..."

"Shut up, Cyrano. Quit being such a good guy all the damn time and be _selfish_. Come to the dark side, we have all the good stuff. Fried foods, candy, cupcakes."

Nik's expression hardened.

"Kale? Wheatgrass?" I said, peering up at him with my best annoying kid brother face.

"We do _not_ have wheatgrass," Cal snapped beside me.

"Vegetarian burgers, then," I amended, "With bacon, though. You can't possibly object to bacon."

I didn't get a smile out of him, but the lines in his face softened a bit and his lip twitched.

Robin dug deep into his pocket and pulled out my ring. "Here," he said, and placed it in my hand, closing my fingers over the metal. "You told me to hold onto it, and I did. Now...if I might make a suggestion?"

I held the ring tightly, and nodded.

"Go," he said, prodding my Kyntalash gently, "Go drop your ring off a few years in the future with a message. A message for me, a message for Niko, by Zeus' sparkling chariot I don't give a damn if you leave a message for your Wolf girlfriend, carve the words in the ceiling for her to spot aglow in candlelight one night as she screams your name in ecstasy, just leave a message for _someone_. Be smart. Help us help you. While Odin may be invested in you for now, he is more concerned about the bloodiness of the battle, the _joy_ of battle, than if you actually survive. Now go."

I stared at him for a moment, filled with a sudden surge of fondness for my friend. "Robin..."

He wouldn't look at me. "I said _go_. How do you function on a daily basis? You've got the brain of a caterpillar and all the urgency of a sloth," he said, and an annoyed expression spanned his features as he grabbed the spare Kyntalash from my hand. "Great merciful Charon, give me that. You can't travel with _two_ of these damn things. I shudder to fantasize what the concentrated power might do. I'll hold onto this until you get back."

I exhaled. "Fine," I said, glancing quickly at Niko and Cal. "See you in a few seconds."

I went.

I came back.

"So? How did it go?" Robin asked anxiously, still holding the spare Kyntalash as before.

I slugged him in the jaw.

"Goddamn it," I scowled, rubbing my knuckles absentmindedly, "Goddamn pre-monogamous days, I fucking _forgot_ , and _you_ , you've gotta be the most vulgar, indecent..." I trailed off, unable to even find the right words, and the rest came out in an incomprehensible growl.

"Cal?" Niko said, raising an eyebrow.

I jabbed a finger into Goodfellow's chest, hard enough to potentially leave a mark. I hoped it scarred. "You _owe me,_ you shameless idiot," I hissed.

Robin beamed. "That good, eh? Excellent. At least I have at least one crowning moment to look forward to, since much of this century is to be wrecked by you danger prone bores and...dare I even think the word? _Monogamy_. Gods." He paused long enough to shudder. "That aside, mind giving me any hints as to the situation you obser-"

Niko clasped a hand over his mouth, shutting him up with a muffled grunt. He turned to me, serious. "Are _you_ alright?"

"Alright? I wish I was blind," I snapped, but the heat was gone from it. I snatched the Kyntalash back from Robin just as Odin appeared behind us, closely shadowed by Loki. Garm wedged himself through the doorframe and hopped up on the bed, earning a squeal of protest from the overtaxed mattress.

Goodfellow mumbled something, but the words were muffled under Niko's hand. Nik rolled his eyes and let up. "What?"

"I merely wish to acknowledge," Robin began seriously, "That this is a delightful gathering around my bed, and it would be a tragedy to let such a sensuous opportunity slip away. We have a few spare minut-"

Niko clasped his hand back down. "Does he never _stop?_ " he directed at me, exasperated.

I smirked. "No," I said, silently grateful for the puck's continual efforts to distract me from what was coming. "Odin. You told me that you could wipe their memories of the last week. Nik, Robin, Cal...even _Loki,_ they can't remember any of this or the future's gonna be altered for sure. Tell me you've got something up your sleeve, take the red or blue pill, sort-of-thing?"

"I am _not_ getting my memory wiped alongside these wimpy blood sacks," Loki snapped. "I am a god, and I will remember."

Odin shook his head. "You especially cannot remember, brother. You would meddle with the timeline."

"How dare you even _suggest_ that I am less than honorable?"

Robin chuckled lightly. "Honorable?" he quipped, lounging back on his bed. " _Honorable?_ What about that little crisis you caused with the brick mason that almost lost Odin his wife?"

"I fixed that," Loki said coldly.

"And the time you kidnapped the goddess Idun to save your own skin from the wrath of a giant, and then wound up catching Asgard on fire?"

"I did _not_ catch Asgard on fire, you liar. The gods lit a fire around their own perimeter. It was hardly my fault that it spread."

He looked at me and winked. "He killed Baldur with mistletoe."

"Who? Seriously?" I asked, and looked skeptically to Loki for conformation.

"He was a spineless fellow, loved more when he was dead than when actually alive," he told me defensively, and gestured to Goodfellow, "Even _you_ cannot pretend to miss him, puck. All that moping around, coupled with his horrendous singing voice-"

"Alright, what about the time you took-"

"Oh give it a rest, both of you," I interrupted, though determined to ask Robin later about the mistletoe thing, "Everyone's getting their memories wiped, Loki. Quit being a crybaby."

"The Wolf too?" he inquired sullenly.

Odin turned to regard Garm, who had burrowed his gigantic nose underneath a stack of decorative pillows and was chewing on the bedspread. "I see no reason for that," he began thoughtfully, "After all the Wolf cannot speak, and, unlike _you_ , he hasn't nearly brought down all of civilization for the fun of it."

"Everyone's a critic," he grumped, smoothing back his hair. He didn't push the issue again.

"Moving forward," Odin mused, carrying the conversation along, "I have my ways, Caliban. Temporary memory loss will not be a problem. I will take the memories, fill the resulting gap with recollections of the mundane...and then return their lost days right before you return, in 2028."

"No," I protested, placing a calming hand against my brother's back. "In no way are you going to leave Niko and Robin wondering what the hell happened to me until I show up again in the year _you picked._ You decided that, you bastard. I get this one. You return the memories the same day I disappear, got that?"

"As you wish," Odin acquiesced. "Since you are being cooperative. But I will wait until after you and Tyr have departed to administer the changes."

"After?" I asked darkly. That wasn't ideal, not even a little bit.

"Why, Caliban..." he countered, and smiled, "Do you not trust me with-"

I felt the twist in my gut a second too late, saw Tyr emerge beside Cal. He reached out, beaming in the face of victory.

His fingers closed around nothing as Cal vanished. He reappeared behind the god, gun pressed against his neck. He didn't bother pulling the trigger, as he already knew bullets wouldn't help. The baffled look on Tyr's face was a real day brightener, though. God, I wished I had a camera.

"Nope," Cal said, grip tight around his Eagle. He had the tiniest trickle of blood trailing from one nostril, and he scowled and brushed it away. "No more jumping me from behind, no more kidnapping, no more goddamn knives at my goddamn throat. Nada. Zilch. I've had enough, asshole. Take your touchy feely issues and shove 'em elsewhere, you raving nutcase."

I grinned, crossed my arms. Bravo, kid.

"So, Tyr," Odin said conversationally, as though nothing had happened, "Are you now prepared to follow through with the preordained plan? You _did_ agree, I recall."

Cal lowered his gun and stepped away as lightning snaked from the god's ankles to his hands. Someone clearly wasn't happy.

"If I must. Give me the artifact," he growled, reaching greedily toward me.

The second Kyntalash hung loosely from my fingertips. I gripped it tighter.

"One sec," I said, and grabbed my brother's arm and dragged him a couple feet from the group.

"We agreed upon twenty minutes-"

"Yeah, yeah, shut your damn trap already," I yelled to the side, then lowered my voice to ensure only Niko could hear me above the crackling of electricity. "Nik. When you remember this, when Odin gives you the memory back years from now when I'm missing-"

"You'll be _fine,"_ he insisted, voice twisted with desperation.

"Obviously, yes. Calm down, I'm not saying goodbye or anything," I reassured him. I gave his braid a light tug, and lowered my voice even further. "September seventeenth, 2016, one a.m. on the docks. Pier 17. Remember that in eight years, okay? Screw what Odin wants. Bring all the backup you can find, and all the weapons you can scrounge up, and make sure Robin's cooked up some genius plan in that oversized cranium of his. And...when you remember, _please_ don't do that thing you always do, where you blame yourself. None of this was your fault."

He stared back nervously. "September seventeenth?"

"One in the morning. Yeah," I said, and smiled. "I'll be seeing you, Cyrano. Eight years."

I turned to leave, but Niko grabbed my arm and yanked me back. "Cal," he said quickly, fingernails digging into my arm as his voice hardened, "Toward the beginning of this, you made some sort of agreement with Loki, so that he would help us. What was it?"

"We need to _go_ ," Tyr grumbled impatiently.

"Don't worry," I told my brother fervently, flipping off the god over my shoulder, "I've got everything figured out, okay? I promise."

He frowned, clearly underwhelmed by my answer. "Cal-"

"Trust me."

He exhaled. "I _want_ to," he said, and rubbed his temples, "However, the notion that you continually keep this a secret does not bode well. If it truly is nothing, just...tell me."

Cal sidled his way over and slung an arm across Niko's shoulders, pulling him back. "Everything's gonna be okay," he said.

"You know what he's hiding, don't you?" Niko mused unhappily, looking from the two of us to Loki. The god looked down instantly, fiddled with the buttons on his cuffs.

"Yes. I know. Now stop worrying," Cal said, giving his brother's neck a swift squeeze. He looked at me, smirked and gave me a sarcastic wave. "See ya, wouldn't want to be ya," he quipped.

"Tough shit," I shot back, and snorted. I turned away before sentimental crap started gushing from my mouth. Hell, that was the last thing I needed.

I walked back to Tyr and handed over the second Kyntalash. As he slipped on the bands I kept my hand on his shoulder so that he couldn't pull a fast one and leave without me. "We've already picked a date and time," I told him coldly. "I'll control the jump. You just go along for the ride."

He sneered. "I only submit to your conditions out of amusement. You really expect to kill me with a spear covered in my own runes? Fool. Your judgement will be all the sweeter because of this folly."

I imagined the point of arrival in my head, and the god and I disappeared.

 **Please Review!**


	17. Cal's Return

**Hello! Thank you for your feedback, it's great hearing from you. Enjoy the next chapter.**

 **...**

 **Niko**

Robin and I waited forty excruciating minutes for Odin, during which time I re-read Cal's letter so frequently that I could have recited every word verbatim if the situation had called for it. His ring sat heavily in my pocket. It crossed my mind somewhere along that stretch of minutes that I should call Promise. She _had_ been at the bar, and was in all likelihood fearful of my whereabouts. Yet...what could I tell her? What words could adequately explain the situation when I had no answers for myself? Above all, I knew she would try to comfort me, and I couldn't afford to fall apart now. I didn't touch the phone.

Robin graciously ignored my uncharacteristic flinch following the sharp knock at the door. He leapt up to answer it. The moment he pulled the knob inward two enormous ravens swooped into the space, landed with a ruffle of feathers on the windowsill. A tall and bearded man followed the birds. He peered at us from underneath the brim of his oversized hat as he crossed the threshold.

"Where's Cal?" I asked him, jumping straight to the point.

"Where?" Odin mused, looking around the space. "You mean when, I believe. _When_ is Cal, that is the right question. Goodfellow, I must admit I am impressed at what you've done with the apartment. The kitchen area in particular has over gone an impressive renovation. What a striking mosaic-"

"When is he coming back?" I interrupted, sidestepping all pleasantries.

He looked from me to Goodfellow and shook his head at our matching expressions. "So woefully uptight."

"When is Cal coming back?" I repeated coldly. My heart jackhammered in my chest, and my hands were clammy.

Odin stretched his arms over his head and sat down on the couch. He rubbed his hand a few times against the suede fabric, then glanced up. "Your brother will return the third Saturday in February. Year 2028."

I forgot how to breathe for a moment. _Twelve years. Twelve years?_

No.

"Excuse me?" I said steadily. My fingers moved to the beads at my wrist, slowly worked their way around the circle.

"That was the agreed upon date, the day he and Tyr are set to return," he said, and sighed heavily. "You were miserable about this eight years ago when the decision was reached, and I don't expect you to appreciate it now. However, I urge you to accept it as the best choice and move on with your life."

"And Cal...he _agreed_ on that date?" Robin asked, shooting me a skeptical look.

"At first he was reluctant. But eventually, yes. He conceded," Odin said. He removed his hat and placed it beside him on the coffee table. "Forsooth, this would all make much more sense if you would permit me to return your memories. May I?"

"Yes," I agreed brusquely before Robin could veto or delay the motion. I had a million questions, all capped by a single forerunner: Cal would _never_ have agreed to make me wait twelve years for him. Something was twisted about the situation. I needed to know what that was. I needed those memories.

"Alright," Robin said cautiously, stepping around the furniture, "I will-"

"No. Me first," I insisted, pushing him back. He eyed me unhappily but stayed put.

Odin gestured for me to sit. I perched adjacent to him on the couch, limbs tense, and observed as he called one of the ravens with a flick of his wrist. The bird alighted on his shoulder and cocked its head toward me. I recognized it as the same creature that had led us to the Vigil.

"I believe you remember Muninn," the All-Father murmured, stroking the raven's feathers gently, "I sent him to aid your brother earlier this afternoon."

"We've met."

"He travels the world each day and reports back the exploits of humankind. He is my confidant, but he also has the ability to take memories and store them away for me," he explained, and then gave his bird a nudge. "Give the Leandros boy his memories."

Muninn snipped its beak. "Better forgotten," he quipped, jumping down to rest on my lap. His claws dug through my black pants. "Memories are your greatest foe. I could take instead, take every memory of your brother and make you forget him. Make you believe you were always an only child. Create a better life for you."

My fingers balled into fists. "You do that and I'll remove your head," I grated with taxed control, moments away from flinging the creature across the room. I peered over at Robin, tried to get an answer from his tense posture. _Could he do that? Could he truly steal every memory I had of Cal?_

Robin leaned against the back of the couch, face inches from the bird. His displeased expression was enough of an answer. "Give Niko his memories back. Do _nothing_ else," he said warningly, "Or you will stand accountable to me."

Muninn flapped up and landed on my head. For a moment nothing happened, then a flood of warmth filled my body. The heat was soothing, and I slumped forward with my elbows against my knees. I could've gone to sleep right then and there if the memories hadn't come rushing back like a bucket of ice water.

Cal had shared some of the details while I'd wrapped his arm earlier that afternoon. Prior knowledge did not make remembering any easier. Every lost minute snapped back into place with vivid color and surround sound. Each moment seemed more horrible than the last as they all blurred together...all the running, all the lightning, all the blood...

Nothing came close to matching the ache in my chest at remembering the expression Cal had worn when I'd first found him at the old bar. He'd thought I was dead, he'd _seen_ me die, and then he travelled back and I was alive again. But I hadn't been the brother he'd lost. I'd interrogated him and not trusted him, not for the longest time. And all the while, the look on his face...

I managed to make it to the sink before I lost it. As I retched into the silver basin, I felt a phantom tug on my braid, and his last words whispered their way through my head.

 _September seventeenth, 2016, one a.m. on the docks. Pier 17. Remember that in eight years, okay? Screw what Odin wants. Bring all the backup you can find, and all the weapons you can scrounge up, and make sure Robin's cooked up some genius plan in that oversized cranium of his._

I glanced cautiously at Odin as I tore a paper towel from the roll and wiped at my mouth. I remembered now that he was both conniving and treacherous, not to be trusted. He'd lied, threatened to kill Cal with a knife, and had...

I recalled the runes carved into my brother's wrist, the way his sleeve had peeled back sticky with blood. _Oh god, oh god, oh god._

I bent back over the sink and threw up again.

 _And...when you remember, please don't do that thing you always do, where you blame yourself. None of this was your fault._

"Niko?" Goodfellow prompted with apprehension from the other side of the room.

 _Don't worry, Nik. I'm not really leaving you alone for twelve years. I'll figure it out. Okay?_

Okay, little brother. Okay.

I waved a hand in Goodfellow's direction and didn't raise my head, not yet. I spat out the last mouthful of putrid mess and rested my forehead against the cool metal. "I'm fine," I said levelly, and took a deep breath. "I'm alright. It's just...a lot."

"Are you sure?" Robin persisted, uneasy.

"I am. Let him give you the memory."

I fought to keep my expression bleak as I rinsed my mouth with water from the tap. Odin expected me to react badly, to continue believing I wasn't going to see Cal for years. I had no intention of alerting the god that anything was amiss in his master plan, and truly the farce did not require much effort.

The raven landed on Robin's head, glowed black and sinister. It should have been a fascinating spectacle to behold. Historians and archaeologists everywhere would have sold everything they owned to stand where I stood, but I conversely wanted this show ended. We needed to expel Odin from the apartment _post haste._ There was much to do in preparation, and we could accomplish naught with the god around.

Robin winced and the raven took flight again. His eyes swiveled to catch mine, and he looked nearly as rattled as I felt. He didn't retch onto the carpet, though. I suppose thousands of years of composure came in handy.

"There, see?" Odin spoke jovially, his fingertips connected underneath his chin. "I promised you all answers would manifest. Now, I suppose I could linger for an hour or so before I return Loki's memories. Do you have further questions you would ask of me?"

I rounded the counter and yanked the door open. "Leave."

Odin eyed me and the hallway with distaste. "There is no excuse for such barbaric behavior," he rebuked, and remained seated. "I helped Cal. I helped _you."_

"Right. My mistake," I said civilly, lip curling as I gestured once more for him to exit. "Thank you. Thank you _so much_ for helping me to lose all contact with my little brother for the next decade. Really, thank you. You have _helpfully_ done plenty of damage for now, I am sure. Now please. Get out."

He smiled tightly and stood, then fished his hat off the coffee table and placed it atop his head. Huginn and Muninn landed one on each shoulder and peered at me with black beady eyes as he strode toward me. "I am certain that I will see you again, Leandros," he said, pausing right before he crossed the threshold. His smile morphed into a sharp and disquieting mask. "Know that my ravens will keep an eye on you these next twelve years."

"I'll be sure to leave food on the windowsills for them. Rat heads and other delicacies. Maybe they can fly their leftovers home for you to share."

He chuckled deep in his throat and walked out of the apartment. I slammed the door behind him and leaned my forehead briefly against the wood.

Robin let out his breath in a low whistle. "Kicking the All-Father out of my apartment," he mused, and crossed his arms over his chest reproachfully. "Quite foolish. Brash. Overall, it stands as an action I would expect from Caliban...but not you."

"Yeah, well..." I muttered, "He's not here, is he? Someone has to be the irresponsible one, however temporarily."

Goodfellow took a few cautious paces toward where I stood. "Imprudent decisions made on your part will not get Cal back. I need you to keep your head, Niko. Stay sharp," he admonished sympathetically. He clapped a hand on my shoulder. " _Skata_. These memories are horrendous. I expected as much, but...tell me," he began worriedly, "Right before Caliban left, when he spoke to only you. I could not make out his words, and he was turned away so I could not read his lips...tell me he told you something helpful."

I pushed away from the door and swiveled to face him. "He's coming back tonight. One in the morning. Pier seventeen-"

"I knew it!" he hissed excitedly, pumping his fist, "I knew it. I knew he would tell _you_ , that he wouldn't bow to Odin's request to wait twelve years." He took a deep breath and held his hands out, shut his eyes for a moment to settle himself down. "Alright. I have everything mostly in place, I just needed the exact date and place and now that we have those, we can prepare. You should call Promise and fill her in. I already have Ish waiting in the Lobby for further instruction, and I'm sure Loki will turn up shortly once he remembers."

"Loki?" I repeated instantly, the name sour on my tongue, "No. Loki wants something from Cal. He's playing us."

"The mongrel is playing everyone, Niko. That is his prerogative. However, he is hardly anything to worry about. His inflated reputation for cruelty is mostly hot air and his actual deeds and temperament do not fully measure up. Furthermore, and herein stands the key truth, he loathes the other gods _far more_ than he will ever dislike Cal. Truth be told, I think he's starting to like the kid. They are basically kindred spirits. Imagine the merriment and pandemonium that would ensue if you gave them a couple of flamethrowers and told them to go wild. It is enough to give even Hephaestus nightmares. In any case-"

"We are pressed for time, Goodfellow," I chided, rubbing a hand across my eyes.

He snapped his lips shut and gave me a slight glare, but did not comment further. "You speak the truth. Four hours is not much time in the grand scheme of things."

As he turned to leave I placed a restraining hand against his arm. "Wait," I said. As he turned, a million questions fought to force their way through my mouth, but I knew what I needed to ask first. "When Cal gave you the spare Kyntalash and you disappeared...where did you go?"

He grinned wolfishly. "I will give you more information soon, I assure you. Now call Promise, get her over here so that we can make our way down to the docks. We are going to need all the help we can get."

An hour later, the four of us stood solemnly at the back of the pier. The location was thankfully devoid of all life, human or otherwise. The moon hung above us like a giant thumbnail, casting shadows between scattered lampposts. Water splashed lightly against the wooden structure and rushed over nearly submerged rocks that jutted with jagged edges from the ocean.

"Why would Cal choose such a location?" Promise inquired softly. Her hair blew softly as a cooling breeze swept inward across the water. A fly buzzed around her face, and she swatted it away.

The question bothered me as well. Lightning and water did not mix with pleasing results. I shook my head slightly. "He did not say," I admitted disgruntledly. "This is the same place we met Tyr eight years ago, perhaps that is significant."

"I for one do not hold Cal as being overly sentimental," Robin rebutted.

The fly returned with vigor, this time nearly landing on my ear before I swatted it. Goodfellow's gaze locked on the insect, and he frowned. As the fly rounded our heads once more, he snapped his arm forward like a snake and caught it in his hand. "Perhaps," he said, bringing his hand close so that he could speak against the closed fist, _"Y_ _ou_ could shine some light on the subject, Loki."

My eyes narrowed. "What?"

Ishiah sighed. "I must admit, I'd forgotten how tiresome the trickster has become."

"Tiresome?" Robin sneered, "Poseidon, blow me. The baby snake has become so wretched he cannot even manage a trick without straining his damnable imagination. You, little god, should know better than to pull such a baseborn illusion."

He shook his fist vigorously for a moment, then opened his hand. The air blurred, and Loki stood before us, hair and clothes ruffled. He scowled furiously.

"Your fly trick grew boorish centuries ago," Robin said by way of greeting, then cocked his head to the side. "What exactly took you so long to arrive?"

"I assure you," Loki began testily, spitting out every word, "I came as soon as I could manage to scoot the wrinkled geezer from my abode. The All-Father grows exceedingly wretched with each passing year."

"How did you find us?" I asked darkly. I highly doubted I'd be able to kill the god, seeing as Cal's gates hadn't managed it a few weeks earlier at Robin's party. Still...Buddha, the temptation.

He stretched his neck to the side to rub out a kink. "I have been monitoring your whereabouts for years, tracking every single movement you and your brother have made," Loki said. He paused and then outright laughed at my expression. "Like I give a damn about you or your vile sibling. I located you because Odin returned the memories of our delightful run-around, and I remembered that Caliban told me this was where he planned to bring Tyr upon his return."

"Cal told _you?"_

"Very manipulative, that brother of yours," Loki answered with an approving sneer. He folded his arms. "Manipulative and _needy_. He bestowed upon me a list of what I should bring to this little picnic, starting with, and I quote, 'that ship thingy you stole from the dwarves that I read about once.' Honestly, Leandros. How you two are related I've no idea. His knowledge and personality are both equally atrocious."

Goodfellow placed a hand on my shoulder so before I could free my Katana. "Skidbladnir? You brought it here? I _did_ wonder why Cal would choose to bring a lightning slinging monstrosity to the cusp of the ocean."

"Kid's got a twisted mind, that's for certain. I had to smuggle the ship back from Freyr, that eccentric peace loving stripling...another reason I was tardy to meet the rest of you. Easy enough a task, as when I arrived the self obsessed fool was gazing at his unsurpassed beauty," he paused and rolled his eyes, "In his room of mirrors. Disgusting. He remained thusly the entire length of my visit, so it was easy to slip in and bolt with the prize."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out tiny snippets of white cloth and splinters of wood.

 _"That_ is Skidbladnir?" I questioned flatly. "I hardly see how that will be of any assistance."

Loki fixed me with a glare that nearly rivaled Cal's on a scale of bitchiness. "Mostly, I blame your lack of imagination on the puck and his steadfast refusal to acknowledge magic."

"Nothing is _magic,"_ Robin huffed back, "There are explanations for everything."

The god of chaos took several strides to the end of the pier, then tossed the fragments into the salty water. "Explain _this,_ then."

A massive splash of water rushed upwards and sideways from the spot, leaving us dripping on the pier. I took a step back, then another, eyes fixed on the growing vessel before us. Planks of wood groaned as they stretched, a sail unfolded and billowed softly in the calm night air.

When all was silent again, the ship towered above us, long and wide enough to fit everyone I'd ever met and more. Loki spun on his heel to face Goodfellow. "Well?" he demanded, raising an eyebrow.

Robin scowled. "It is...shifting atoms, chemical reactions. An illusion."

He grinned victoriously. "Magic."

"Gamisou. It matters not," the puck snapped, jabbing a finger in his direction. " _You_ stole it, and if Freyr's elves storm your flat in Las Vegas, do not come crying to my doorstep."

Loki pulled a packet of M&M's from his pocket and tore it open. "Caliban _told me_ to steal it."

"Perhaps," Promise reproached softly, placing her hand against Robin's shoulder before he could retort, "We should return to the task at hand. I believe we have two hours left. Loki, did Cal give you any further instruction?"

The god popped a handful of candies into his mouth. "The audacious harlequin had the gall to order me to ask my son Jormungand for assistance. I _did_ manage to communicate with him, but it may take hours before he can swim to this point on the globe."

I was impressed that Cal had remembered Loki's sea monster of a child, though he'd probably only retained the information to insult the god later. I decided to ignore the offense. How much damage the Midgard Serpent could do to a god remained unseen, but since Loki's other son Fenrir had been able to chew off his hand at a previous encounter the results could be promising.

"And Hel?" I asked.

Loki fixed me with an uncomfortable flick of black eyes before he refocused back at the ship. "You do not want to see my daughter anywhere near your brother, Niko."

I narrowed my eyes distrustfully. He and Cal had been hiding something, some kind of macabre agreement, and it had something to do with Hel. That much, I did know. The rest remained a disturbing mystery. I leaned closer, but the opportunity to question him slipped through my fingers as yet _another_ god appeared beside us clad in gleaming armor, his bleached hair yanked back messily into a bun.

Loki nearly leapt away, but stopped himself at the last moment. "What in the Nine Realms is that reprobate pariah doing _here?"_ he demanded with strangled patience.

Goodfellow looked smug. "I invited him."

Thor pulled Loki into a rib-crushing one armed hug. "Uncle! It pleases me to see you again so soon."

"Get. Off," Loki spat, wrenching himself free from the other man's grip. He rounded on the puck. "This is some cruel punishment, is it not? Enlighten me Goodfellow, whatever transgressions have I committed to offend you?"

"Would you prefer the unabridged novel or the bulleted list?" Robin asked dryly, and then pursed his lips. "Furthermore, not everything is about you. Cal is to battle a fiend that possesses blood of an Impundulu and can fling lightning with a thought, and I imagined it only fair to bring your Mjolnir flinging nephew into the fray. The decision is made. Fix your dysfunctional family on your own time, as perhaps counseling is necessary at this stage in the game. Thor will stay."

Loki sighed exasperatingly, one hand still pressed against Thor's chest to keep him at an arm's length. He tipped the remainder of the packet of candy into his mouth and chewed. "Fine," he grumped, "Tell me, are you at least momentarily _sober?_ "

Thor beamed and tossed his hammer from hand to hand over Loki's head. "We will gorge ourselves on drink and feast _after_ the battle is won."

Loki shoved him further away and groaned.

I crossed my arms and turned away. It was disconcerting that I had always imagined the gods to be intellectual and well composed beings, when in reality they were heavily the opposite. Even _Cal_ was more levelheaded than any god I'd met thus far.

My chest tightened.

Robin looked at me, gave me a reassuring smile. "He'll be alright," he assured me quietly over the gods' continued squabble.

I nodded and followed silently as he made his way toward the ship. We still had hours to wait.

I hated waiting.

 **...**

 **Cal**

I was dizzy.

World spinning, seeing spots, what the hell was in those brownies, _dizzy._ At least I hadn't fallen flat on my face this time, but still _._ Time travel was a bitch. It took me a few seconds to clear away the cobwebs, and that was long enough for Tyr to notice. He grinned like a shark anticipating an easy meal.

Cocky bastard. I was one bug he _wasn't_ going to squash.

I lowered my hand to Tyr's wrist and simultaneously built tiny gates at my fingertips, severing several bands of his Kyntalash as I yanked hard on the metal. The cursed device ripped broken from his arm. I hurled the damn thing as far away as I could, and it landed with a satisfying clamor on the deck of the ship.

His smile melted sideways off his face. He stared, stunned into silence.

"You destroyed my jacket earlier, it's only fair," I quipped, smirking. Take that, shithead. No more playing for you.

A low growl hissed through his clenched teeth, growing louder by the second. He flung his arm up, but I was already gone. I reappeared several paces behind him on the deck. He spun to face me, smoke rising from where his bolt of lightning had missed. My head gave another annoyed twinge, and I stayed still. Unless I wanted my brain to become a bloody cocktail of ruptured blood vessels, I needed to be careful with my gates, keep them to a minimum.

It was nearly pitch black on the boat, which was unheard of for New York; but then again the ship was adrift and probably several miles from land, and the city lights were dim at best this far out. I couldn't see any of the others, but I knew they were there, waiting. My nose had never let me down before.

Tyr balled his hand into a fist. "Tis no great loss," he said, calm once more. He took one stride toward me, then another. "Your Kyntalash is intact. After your body has sunk below the waves I will retrieve it, use it as I wish."

"Guess again," I singsonged, and used the same technique to slice away chunks of the gauze and metal on my own arm. I reached up under my jacket and peeled the tattered pieces back, wincing as they clung stubbornly to muscle and bone underneath. I tossed it over the side, and the ruined technology splashed into the ocean and sank.

Blood dripped anew from my reopened wound down into my Auphe glove as I rolled my sleeve back down. I felt...

Better. _So_ much better, a thousand times better. Clouds lifting, angels singing. I felt light, alive; I finally felt like _me_ again.

Tyr's eye was twitching. "Do you _realize-"_

"Yeah, yeah, let me guess, I've just made a horrible mistake. Whatever. If it was good enough for the old lady on the Titanic, it's good enough for me."

 _"You-"_

A flash of silver flung sideways at Tyr, so quick that all I caught was a blur. The object slammed into his temple, sending him stumbling back a step.

His eyes followed the trajectory of Thor's hammer as it swung back into the blackness. I stepped forward, spear in hand, ready to jab it deep into whatever organs the Vigil had gifted him, but suddenly a hundred beady eyes hovered between the god and me, a deadly wall of teeth, claws, and fur.

I halted. I could've gated behind him, maybe stabbed him in the back, but chances were good he anticipated that move. I had backup, I had _time,_ and if I fucked up now Nik would never forgive me. Knowing all that, I stayed still. I waited, I assessed.

Tyr touched the side of his head, and his fingers came away bloody. "I'm afraid your ship is infested with pesky rats, skittering from shadow to shadow. I could exterminate them, if you wish," he said, eyes glinting dangerously, "Starting with the blond human with the sword."

I gripped the spear tighter. Before I could make a sound, his weasels surrounded me like a cluster of ugly backup dancers. They pounced as a group. I gated the first dozen off to a fiery grave...and stopped.

The shadow weasels flowed around me like water, leaping and biting but catching only air. Before I had time to even question the odd turn of events my left arm burned, and I yanked up my sleeve to reveal that both runes carved on my wrist were glowing bright white. My eyes snapped back to Tyr's in the light, and my lips curled when I caught his outraged expression.

"What?" I mused, grin twisting, "Haven't you ever seen runes before?"

"Tiwaz is _my_ rune, you monstrous sack of refuse," he snarled coldly. He thrust out his hand to choke me with a noose...

Nothing. I breathed in deeply, then exhaled with a contented sigh. "Lovely evening we're having," I drawled, poking every button of his I could fathom as he stood there, hand still raised, shaking with anger. I raised an eyebrow. "Vader would not approve."

The lightning snaked faster around his body, and I vanished in a gate as a bolt sparked in my direction. Rodents and invisible nooses were one thing, but lightning wasn't something I was willing to chance, not unless it was unavoidable. I came out beside him and slashed the spear clumsily toward his ribs. He dodged, pivoted, and I used the movement to rake my titanium claws across his ribcage and kick him backward.

He stumbled only briefly, and then turned back to send more lightning my way. Two wolves hit him first. Massive furry paws batted the god backward against the deck, claws slashing and teeth snapping. I could easily spot Garm's big red eyes in the darkness, and could guess that Loki had done his own mimic of the beast.

Fingers clutched my good arm, and I peered sideways to find myself face to face with my brother.

"Tell me I did not just sneak up on you," Niko chided, shaking his head. "I know that cannot be, as you are not that lazy or stupid."

I tapped the spear handle gently against his knee. "It's good to see you too, Nik."

He looked me over with trepidation, but didn't comment. I knew what he saw; one sleeve dripping blood while the other arm glowed eerily. Not the best ever day for me, all things considered. He gave my arm one last squeeze, as though to assure himself that I was really there, and then let go.

Tyr had Garm in a chokehold while he kept Loki back with lightning. The latter shifted, becoming small and feathered. He shot through the danger and then landed on Tyr's chest as a lion, claws raking and teeth snapping. I gated Garm back several feet to free him from the invisible noose, and he leapt back at the god's throat.

"We've never had so much backup before," I muttered.

"We've never _needed_ so much backup before," Goodfellow interjected, stepping from the darkness as Thor released his hammer once more, briefly pounding Tyr flat against the deck. He leapt up, laughing. Runes covered his face, his hand. Lightning wisped around his form faster than my eyes could follow.

"Promise and Ishiah are waiting on the sideline for now," Robin continued, answering my next unspoken question. "Needless to say they are unhappy about it, but seeing as this appears to be a fight amidst gods they would truly only serve as a distraction."

I understood. I gripped Odin's spear tighter in my Auphe glove. The blood was making it difficult to keep a good hold on it, and I briefly tossed it to my left hand so I could wipe the glove on my jeans. I had to find a way to get close enough to run Gungnir through the bastard, send him pushing up daisies until his flesh rotted away.

"The others are no match for Lazarus in the long term; you need to stab him," Robin warned me, echoing my thoughts.

"That's the problem with these damn archaic weapons, you gotta get close enough first. Remind me to get this thing upgraded so that it shoots from a gun, perhaps accompanied by explosives."

"A spear is not archaic, Cal."

"Says the ninja badass with the sword, condescendingly, might I add," I shot back, and received a swat to the back of the head as a reward. I returned my focus to the fight. If I could only determine where Tyr was weakest, attack from that angle...

A shadow swooped down into my scope of vision and then flapped upward to land on the mast. A raven. _Shit._ "Looks like the jig is up, kids," I drawled.

"I've seen that bird several times in the last hour," Robin corrected with a dismissive gesture, "Odin is no fool, and he has eyes everywhere. That said...I do not believe he will try to stop you at this point in the game."

I gritted my teeth. "Good," I said, and disappeared. I leapt out of the swirling rip behind Tyr, spear extended. He twisted at the last possible moment and the sharp point slid with a squelch into the meat of his left shoulder. He bellowed with rage and gripped the shaft to yank it free. I reached up underneath his hands and kicked off of his body, freeing the spear and myself in the process. Blood ran thickly from his wound, and he darted toward me.

Garm hit him first. The god screamed as he was tossed like a doll to the floor, and I used the distraction to distance myself from the fray and regroup.

"For love of Ares, are you a child? You used spears by the dozen back in Troy, try to remember how to fight properly," Robin chastised.

I scowled but didn't look at him. "For fuck's sake, Loman, we're having a rough enough time without adding an identity crisis to the list. Besides, I was more fond of swords in those days."

The shadow weasels rushed over Thor like an angry blanket, and I did my best to gate the majority away without clipping pieces of the god. So much for my good intentions to gate sparingly. My head spun, knees buckled.

Niko exhaled tightly and crouched in front of me. "You're okay," he said firmly, eyes level with mine as he grabbed both my shoulders. "You're okay, Cal."

As he helped me to my feet his expression didn't give anything away, so I might have truly been alright. Then again, I could have been dying and he'd have given the same reaction.

I nodded, swallowed the copper taste in my mouth.

"You must keep him occupied for a little longer, Caliban. I have help coming," Robin assured me.

"Who?"

The puck grinned, eyes glinting dangerously. "Tyr."

Tyr flung a lightning bolt in our direction, and I made a large gate in front of us as a shield. I didn't know yet if runes would stop him from frying me up extra crispy like a bucket of Colonel Sanders, but I knew for certain that lightning would mean death for my brother and Robin.

 _"Tyr?_ I think you've had one too many sleepless nights," I grunted, keeping the gate up, "We're _fighting_ Tyr. Bad guy, remember?"

Robin looked at me with disappointment. "You never _learn,_ do you? Try to think back to when you briefly gave me the second Kyntalash, when you practically giftwrapped the damn thing for me. Did you honestly not expect me to use it in your absence?" he asked haughtily, and then raised his eyebrows at my shocked expression. "Clearly not. However, I _did_ leave, and I _did_ find help. I located Tyr. The real Tyr."

I grunted under the strain of keeping the gate open so long. "We are _fighting_ the real Tyr," I protested through gritted teeth.

"No. You're fighting _Lazarus,_ " Goodfellow said triumphantly. Thor managed to get another crack at the god, and he toppled momentarily. The lightning quit, and I let the gate close. I breathed deeply, swayed.

"Tyr, Lazarus...are they not the same?" Niko questioned, pressing a hand to my back to steady me.

"I told Caliban before, when we were on Lazarus' slave ship, that I would have known if Tyr was dead," Robin explained excitedly, "He was not dead, only compromised, missing. If the Vigil had, god forbid, put _Cal's_ blood into Lazarus, he would likewise not have actually _become_ Cal. Lazarus has the blood of many paien, but not their souls. He does not have Tyr's soul."

"Where _is_ Tyr, then? The real Tyr?" I asked.

"Coming," Robin spoke, eyes glinting. "He's coming."

 **Please Review!**


	18. Playing God

**Hey everyone! Thank you so much for your reviews! I'd like to once again reassure you that this is NOT a deathfic, just in case any of you get worried when reading this chapter. I'm not mean enough to spring that on you, so rest assured that no matter how dire the situation becomes, all will be resolved in the end. Whether it is resolved in this chapter or the next...that is another point entirely. Enjoy.**

 **...**

 **Cal**

Another slash of lightning struck the ship as Loki lunged toward Tyr, no, _Lazarus,_ morphing mid-movement into some winged prehistoric reptile. Smoke trailed upward from the point of impact. So far the ancient ship had withstood strike after strike of abuse, but if Loki started breathing fire in this new skin of his, I was bailing over the side. I'd drowned before, and aside from the slow agony of suffocation it wasn't half bad. Had its perks, even. After all, you couldn't be charred to a living crisp if you were submerged in water.

No flames seemed to be forthcoming, so I redirected my attention to Robin. If he had been anyone else I'd have chewed him out for dropping a nuke of new information in our laps, but...hell, I'd been more surprised when Hostess made the damnable call to take Twinkies off the market. This was Goodfellow, after all. The puck could keep a secret like nobody's business, and while all his covert plans and showy reveals were vexing enough to make even Gandhi loose his shit, they did have a tendency to save our asses.

"Give it to me straight," I began through gritted teeth, careful to stay on my best behavior so as to keep both my dick and ability to function safe from retaliation, "This sonuvabitch has caused us a mountain of trouble since he was born, hell, created by the Vigil in Satan's test tube. Are you telling me he's _not_ actually a god?"

Garm leapt at Lazarus' throat, and rows of pointed teeth ground together when they closed on air. The bastard appeared behind, focused on striking the Wolf down, but before he could fully raise his hand he was swatted sideways by Mjolnir. He jumped to his feet, the grin on his face nearly hidden by finger bones and long hair, but not hidden enough that I couldn't tell he was having the best damn time of his life.

The freak was _enjoying_ himself.

"The scabrous imp does have a god's blood," Robin vaguely answered my question, eyes solemn as he tracked Lazarus' sporadic dance around the others.

I scowled. "Christ, Loman. Even _Promise_ could have a god's blood if she got a hankering for a Norse smoothie," I hissed, tossing good manners out the window. Hell, I'd tried. "Blood doesn't mean shit."

I built a gate in front of us to swallow up the horde of shadow weasels that rushed our position. When the gate closed spots of light peppered my vision. Niko tightened his grip on his sword until his knuckles whitened, clearly unhappy that I was gating so frequently, and even more unhappy that he could not help me as he wished.

Goodfellow awarded me his full attention, and his bitchy expression reflected that his concern for our situation was at odds with his patience. "Then no, Caliban. By your primitive classifications he is no god. I hardly see why such details matter, as he can still beat our well toned buttocks into oblivion by use of paien skills."

It mattered. Goddamn _yes_ , it mattered. All the ego of a god, but none of the credentials? That was a recipe for grouchy inner demons. I already excelled at harassing gods; imagine how much more I could annoy the crap out of someone who longed to be a god, but could never reach that pedigree.

Lazarus was ignoring all three of us, for the most part. He was playing, and we were the designated after-dinner snack. Well fuck him. I didn't do being ignored. "How long until the real Tyr crashes this shindig?" I asked, clearing my throat of the copper taste.

Robin shook his head. "Could be anytime. Minutes, hours."

 _"Hours?"_ Niko repeated sharply.

"Screw that. There is no way I'm gonna wine and dine this wannabe deity for hours," I snarked, watching as Lazarus swatted all three attackers back with a ring of lightning and an even larger throng of shadowy attackers. I needed an opening, and it looked like I'd found one. "Let's go with minutes, okay? I'm optimistic."

I reached out and gave Niko's braid a tug. "See you soon, big brother."

He shot me a worried glance, but I was gone before he could speak. I'd intended to appear behind Lazarus, but when I stepped from the gate the bastard had already spun to face me. Talk about a sixth sense to the triple six degree. His lightning whirred circularly around both of us, and he eyed the spear in my hand just long enough for me to fabricate another gate and send us packing down the length of the ship away from the others. Nik was going to be _livid._ They'd be able to reach us, but the ship was so supernaturally massive that it would take them several minutes of running.

A dark cackle broke from Lazarus' throat as he realized what I'd done. "You schlemiel," he hissed, drawing himself up to his full height, "I will destroy you all the faster without your friends' distractions. Your weapon is naught but contemptible filth."

I let the spear drop from my fingers. It landed on the deck with a hollow thunk and rolled to a halt a few feet away. "Eh, forget about the jazzed up twig for a minute. I just want to chat."

"Chat?" he echoed dubiously, cocking his head so far to one side that it appeared to have snapped. The skin tightened around his eyes as he studied me suspiciously, and I noted that the city lights seemed brighter. We must've drifted closer to the shore.

"I've heard some distressing rumors," I began, allowing a grin to snake its way across my face, "That _somebody_ has been playing god."

His expression dropped from suspicion to loathing in a couple milliseconds. If we'd lived in Acme Acres he would've turned red and jetted steam from his ears. Jesus, this guy was narcissistic.

I folded my arms in front of me and leaned forward to infringe upon his bubble of personal space. "More specifically, I've heard that _you_ , Tyr, god of war and judgement, are _not_ a god at all," I continued, and gave him a knowing look, "Just a run of the mill test tube monster. We found your old stomping grounds in an abandoned barn...flashy shit, I've gotta say."

"Your rumors are false. I am a true god."

I scoffed. "God? Nah, you're a specimen, like me. A success, like me," I goaded him, watching a bead of sweat drip from his brow down his cheek as his anger grew, "Trust me, I can sympathize. Hell, my dear old dad created me as an experiment and kept dozens of my failure brothers and sisters locked away in a house. Don't worry, I won't tell a soul."

His scowl deepened exponentially, and he jerked forward and wrapped his hand around my throat. He'd barely touched me when the runes burned again, white hot on my arm, and he hissed and uncurled his fingers.

My smile grew. "Rough, isn't it? Knowing what you really are?"

He loomed closer, hands off but face inches from my own. "What I _really am_ is a god, wretch. How do you think the gods become gods?" he hissed, barely audible over the wind ruffled sail and wooden groans of the ship bobbing in the current, "They start with one believer, one miniscule ant that prays diligently, and grow their following as belief spreads to families, to communities, to continents. That is what they did, what Odin did, what Loki did. Your friend the puck tried it, once. Why should I not take my turn? I can be just as great a god as they, greater, even. I can bring the world what it needs."

The others were back, hidden in the dark, but nearby. I bent and nonchalantly picked up the spear, tossed it from hand to hand like a too-hot pizza roll. "And what exactly does the world need?"

"A fresh start," he raved fervently, sending a hearty laugh to sweep the deck, "The death of this fallen world and a triumphant rise from the ashes. Like Lazarus himself, in biblical times."

Eyes slowly popped into existence behind him, beside him, most likely even behind _me._ So many goddamn shadow pets. How many gates did I have left? How many more times could I rip a hole in reality and live to walk away? My arm ached; the loss of the Kyntalash, which had been keeping me alive as fuel, hit me harder and harder as minutes passed. I was exhausted.

"The only people who would think of you as a god are looneys, asshole," I told him, stalling for all I was worth.

His eyes flashed, and runes circled outwards from his pupils and down his face in intricate patterns. "Oh? _You_ believed. You believed I was a god. You, standing tall with your spear and all your unearthly gates, friends behind you. You, who dared to alter the past. Isn't that what you're making yourself out to be? A god?"

The wind picked up, whipping my hair back from my scope of vision. We were on the right side of the ship, Lazarus' back nearly pressed against the railing. I could hear the waves crash below us, a hectic chorus of irregular rhythm that rocked the deck underneath my feet. And there, behind Lazarus on the barrier, loomed the true one-armed god of war, of judgement.

Hell, I was all for the judgement.

Tyr coldly raised an arm above Lazarus, and the latter's face contorted as the breath was squelched from his lungs. Yeah, payback's a real bitch. I lunged forward before he could make sense of the situation, burying Gungnir dead center in his chest.

"I never claimed to be a god," I told him coldly, grip tight on the handle, "Just a helluva lot more motivated."

Lazarus' hands jerked up to the wound, becoming instantly slick with blood. He loosed an inhuman growl and let his lightning fly, but it merely twisted around the two of us uselessly and snaked charred gouges in the wooden ship as my own runes glowed protectively.

Tyr blurred. He moved directly behind Lazarus, who took a page out of my book by vanishing backward to escape the noose. Tyr redirected toward his foe, but not before I got a good glimpse of the god's face. His cheeks and neck were sliced, mangled with old wounds that were just beginning to heal. He looked less like a proud god and more like an escaped captive. A tortured captive.

Those Vigil sons of bitches should've been thankful that it'd been me that had killed them. I doubted very much that the slighted god would have been quite as humane as I.

Lazarus stood behind us, balanced on the railing. He yanked the spear once, and the resulting crunch of ribs and bone was nauseating. The point didn't budge, and it took him a second hard yank to free the spear from his chest. He hurled the weapon over the side of the ship and spun back to face us, wind blowing the finger bones in his hair back from his forehead so I could make out the crazed gleam in his eyes.

He was desperate now. I remembered enough about Odin's spear to know that Lazarus was already a dead man walking. The weapon may have been more archaic than my usual fare, but it always killed, and the blood spurting from the wound was evidence enough of that. Didn't mean the freak was going to make it easy on us. If anything, the visual taints of mortality sent him into a frenzy. More lighting slashed my way, enough that I could barely distinguish where each bright strike of voltage began and where it ended. The contrasting brightness and darkness had my vision fucked up so bad that I could barely even make out shapes through squinted eyes.

I opened a gate behind Lazarus, preemptively cutting off a potential escape route. No jumping ship for the wannabe god. He wasn't getting off so easy this time. Tyr managed to get another noose around his throat, and as the killer's face paled he continually flung more lightning.

Something sharp pricked my upper back.

I froze.

A tense glance to my left revealed Loki standing casually by my side amidst all the lightning, holding Gungnir so that the point pressed dangerously between my shoulder blades. A thousand curses rushed through my head, all directed back at myself. I hadn't heard him sneak up behind me.

"Drop something, worm food?" he asked facetiously.

I didn't try to twist away. Like hell was I giving him any sort of satisfaction. "Nah," I shot back, and intentionally leaned _closer_ so that the weapon punctured my skin just enough to send a tiny trickle of blood down my back. "I just wanted you to fetch it for me. Thanks bunches, Fido."

The god paused for a couple heartbeats, then flipped the spear in his grip with a smirk and held it handle first toward me.

I exhaled. "What, no stabby-stab fun time? Aren't you itching to send me packing down to eternal torment? Follow through with our agreement and all?" I demanded, holding the weapon down at my side. The thing dripped with ocean water and was slippery in my grasp.

He shrugged.

The sail was aflame now, burning with a fiery intensity that reached toward the heavens. A raven soared down amidst the lightning, then took off on dark wings into the night sky.

"Finish it," Loki urged me, eyes tracking the bird with unease. "Kill him quickly, before something goes awry."

"Yes, because it's been going splendidly so far," I snapped back, hefting the spear in my left hand.

Tyr had his fingers around Lazarus' neck now, and his jagged nails pierced skin as he squeezed hard enough for his arm to shake under the strain. "Foul abomination," he seethed, "How bold runs your stolen blood, that you and the Vigil dare strip my identity, steal my essence like a common cur?"

Maniacal laughter tore from Lazarus' throat. A twitch of his fingers was all it took for a new scourge of shadow weasels to materialize and swarm every inch of the ship until the deck was fully submerged.

Bursts of light flashed behind me. Out of the corner of my eye I could make out my brother and Ishiah standing back to back, efficiently sweeping the deck with flamethrowers. Before I could consider helping, my eyes caught on Goodfellow as he darted forward through the throng like a quarterback, holding Xolo firmly underneath one arm. Several of the creatures hung from his legs with their teeth, but he paid them no mind as he whispered furiously into the chupacabra's ear.

I built gates around him to keep most of the shadow weasels back as he cleared the swarm and halted, meters from us. "Lazarus!" he shouted over the wailing wind, "You butchering bastard, eyes up!"

Lazarus' head whirled around. The instant the wannabe god found the puck in the crowd his jaw dropped and he froze like a frightened child. He swallowed and took a baby step backward on the railing, stopped and teetered when his heel hit open air. Whatever the hell Goodfellow had him seeing, it was fucking terrifying. I felt a brief pang of satisfaction. God, I hoped he pissed himself.

Lazarus rotated his arm backward as through to escape. He nearly fell through my gate, but the asshole was still aware enough of his surroundings not to make that mistake. The shadow weasels faded, disappeared. Through everything, Tyr continued to squeeze away his life, and the Vigil's protégé turned more colorful than abstract art, blue and purple and grey hues all mottled together.

Time to nail him to the wall and call it a day.

I turned back to Loki. "Can you distract-"

A scaled head erupted from the ocean waves and shot upward ten, twenty feet above us. Lazarus, who was still lost in Xolo's hallucination, didn't even flinch as a splash of salty water poured from the open jaws of the sea serpent to drench everyone onboard. The creature arched its body and tilted glowing reptilian eyes down to focus on us. It opened its jaws wider and released a screech somewhere between a thousand squealing truck breaks and a velociraptor. Were my ears bleeding? Fuck. I swallowed hard and remembered to breathe.

"...your kid?" I muttered to Loki, jaw slack.

Loki folded his hands in front of him. "Ask and you shall receive," he replied smugly, and gave the creature a tiny wave.

Holy hell. Shit. I was never going swimming ever again. No goddamn way.

The Midgard Serpent hissed and stuck out, clamping her teeth around Lazarus' remaining arm and cleanly severing the limb below the shoulder with such precision that the bastard didn't even slip from his perch on the rail. The snake sunk downward, taking its prize as it dove back into the depths of the ocean. Lazarus' eyes focused as the trauma pinged his mind back to the real world. He shrieked, mouth slack, as his eyes took in the new loss of limb. Blood dripped down to paint the deck red.

"She's got a lovely personality," Loki chuckled.

"Yeah, I'll bet. Father's Day must be a real circus for you."

I was kidding myself if I expected a better distraction to come knocking. I quickly built an express route to Lazarus before the sucker could come to terms with being a midnight snack. As I stepped from the swirling tear and onto the railing I buried the spear in his back. Lazarus grunted in surprise and twisted, smearing me with blood that steamed in the chilly September air. His black eyes were half lidded now, the runes fading. He nearly collapsed against me in an effort to back away from Tyr.

"No," he slurred, defiant till the very last, "I am your _God."_

I shoved him away from me in disgust, and he toppled into the ocean with a splash. Sayonara, little nothing god. No Ragnarok for you.

It was quiet. I breathed deeply, exhausted. The waves continued to rock the ship, making it damnably difficult to keep my balance. I needed sleep...blood transfusions, maybe an amputated arm, possibly therapy, but damn it, hours and hours of sleep sounded _fantastic_. As I turned to step down from the railing a raven flapped into my scope of vision and soared off across the water toward the city. I frowned and fought off the urge to shoot it with my Eagle. Nah. Sleep first, massacre later.

A deafening crack shook the entire ship. For a moment I thought it might be thunder, but I heard Niko shout and then...

I was in the ocean.

I bobbed to the surface and coughed up a mouthful of salt water. Disoriented, I lifted my arms and discovered pieces of the burned sail and rope from the mast tangled around me. I'd been swept overboard, I realized. Had the mast hit me, or had the impact knocked me off balance from the rail? I couldn't remember. My head...

"Cal."

I squinted upward and could barely discern Niko's concerned face above me on the dark ship. I pushed the fragments of rope away, treading water as carefully as possibly to not agitate any injuries.

"I...I'm okay," I said shakily, then inhaled sharply when something snagged my ankle and yanked me underneath the surface. I reached down and found a thick coil of rope wrapped tightly around my ankle. The other end must've still been attached to the mast, because it was pulling me steadily downward.

 _No._

I twisted to get free, and my head screamed at me for the movement. Blood. Everywhere. I was bleeding, and badly. I tried to gate, and...nothing. Not a goddamn thing. Shitshitshitshit. I tried again, but my headache seared like a white hot poker through my eye and I abandoned that option for more human methods. The runes on my arm still glowed, and I saw with a jolt that a body had been ensnared with mine, long hair streaming as we were pulled downward. Long hair twisted with bones.

No way. Fucking _no,_ I was not going down like this, dragged to the same watery grave as the bastard that had made my life a living hell. I ignored his lifeless body and fumbled with my pockets until I found a knife, then hacked away at the rope wrapped around my ankle. My attempt was weak, my lungs burned. Seriously, what did these high-and-mighty Norse gods use to make their rope? Steel?

I wasn't going to make it. _Fuck._

A hand wrapped around my left arm, slightly obscuring the glow of the runes. I recognized the grip instantly and paused my efforts long enough to reach through the water for my brother. My fingers closed around his wrist, and I returned his grip just as tightly and then pulled him down, holding my glowing arm close to the traitorous rope so that he could see what had happened. He took the knife from my hand without pause and bent over the rope as I had, fighting to free me.

My vision blurred. I hadn't gotten a proper breath before I'd been dragged under, and my lungs screamed for me to breathe. Breathe in, take a breath of water, go ahead. Ever the observant one, Niko paused his efforts to cut through the rope and gave me the last of his air. Our eyes met briefly when moved back. He looked scared, more scared than I'd ever seen him in my whole life. My gut twisted. _"Sorry. I'm sorry,"_ I mouthed weakly.

I didn't know what he saw in my eyes, but from the way he returned to his task with furious intensity, it wasn't good. He was efficient, nearly halfway through, but the rope was thick and tough and he wasn't going to be fast enough.

My grip loosened on his arm. I struggled to keep my hold, to reassure him that I was still there, but...

The runes on my arm dimmed, flickered. Couldn't be good.

Could not be...

My brother didn't react when my arm finally slipped from his. If anything, he sawed faster. My lungs failed moments later and sucked in a mouthful of water on reflex. My body jerked, and I choked on another mouthful, and another. It _burned._

Arms circled tightly around me as Nik pulled me close. I was dying and he knew it, and he wasn't about to let me suffer alone. I clutched the back of his shirt weakly and buried my face against him as I faded. I tried once more to gate, to save us both.

Nothing.

Not now.

I hoped...

 **...**

 **Niko**

 _Sorry. I'm sorry. Sorry. I'm sorry. Sorry. I'm sorry._

 _I'm sorry-_

"Niko?"

The word was barely audible, but I heard. Everything was hazy, and someone was coughing. Me. _I_ was coughing. Fingers curled about my shoulders tightly, and I realized that Promise was the one keeping me steady as I emptied my lungs of water. My hands curled into fists beneath me as I shivered. I gulped in a breath. "Where?" I demanded hoarsely.

Promise's only response was a tiny intake of breath. I willed my wobbly arms to support my weight and pivoted my neck until her shadowed face became visible. Her eyes met mine, sad.

"No," I denied furiously, and erupted in another string of hacking coughs.

She placed a strong arm against my back and helped me sit up. Turning my head further, I made out Goodfellow and Loki in the gloom, both kneeling beside my brother. I shook free of Promise's grip and dragged my aching body across the short gap, weakly pushing Loki aside to take his place.

Cal's eyes were half open and stared vacantly across the water. His hair clumped in a knotted mess of black strands across his forehead. Goodfellow peeked sideways at me, dripping wet and pale as he continued compressions. "Loki got you both out," he explained grimly, then bent down to breathe into motionless lungs. "Skata. Come _on,_ kid. Breathe."

Garm whimpered across from us where he lied flat on the floor. He watched every movement Robin made with morose eyes.

Cal's left arm rested lifelessly on the deck in front of me, and I reached out and grabbed his hand with shaky fingers. Cold, he was so cold.

Loki knelt back beside me as Robin continued with the compressions. "Niko..." he began with uncharacteristic delicacy, "I am truly sorry. Between your brother's previous injuries and _this_...he does not have-"

 _"Shut up,"_ I growled, eyes flashing furiously. I shoved him back with my free hand, and hatred surged like fire through my blood. "You shut up, you pretentious and manipulative son of a bitch. You _wanted_ this. You wanted this, you goddamn bastard."

My voice broke and Loki grimaced. I focused my attention back to Cal, back to my whole goddamn world. He would start breathing again. He _would,_ he had to, and then I'd kick his ass for this wretched stunt and never let him near any sort of water, not even a swimming pool, not ever again. I lowered my face to his hand and squeezed my eyes shut. "Please," I whispered desperately.

I felt Loki climb back to his feet slowly, then back away. "I did want him dead. Once," the god admitted quietly, so soft that I barely heard.

A few minutes later my brother's body stilled, and I knew with aching certainty that Robin had done all he could. The puck's arm slid over my shoulder as he slumped against me.

"Goddamn it, Cal," I choked, "You _promised."_

 **...**

 **Cal**

I was back in the hobbit house.

I pressed the palms of my hands to my eyes and tightened my jaw. My lungs burned as the memory of my last moments of life echoed around me. I wasn't ready for this, wasn't ready to leave. What had happened to Nik?

I exhaled and let my arms drop. A dribbly candle flickered on the sill, barely providing enough light to project shadows on the walls. The pile of straw was strewn before me like I remembered, as was the blanket, but the window...

Gone was the picturesque meadow of green grass and mist. Gone was the grey, sunless sky. I could see nothing through that pane, an abyss of pitch-black onyx, a sunless and starless void. Empty, save for me.

Well...crap.

I spun back to face the door. I had zero hopes, but hey, living was a tough habit to break. There was no handle this time, no lock to pick. I frowned and spun on my heel to dash to the other side of the cabin. I slowed when I reached my destination and pounded a fist against the wall in frustration. The second door was outright _gone._ It seemed prissy princess Hel was not taking any chances with me today.

Someone cleared their throat behind me. I turned. Groaned. "Don't you have _anywhere_ else to be?" I demanded brusquely. Hey, I was dead. I was entitled to be rude. "Slot machines? The filming of an Herbal Essence commercial? This place is cramped enough as is, and there is no fucking way I'm accepting roommates."

Loki gave the room a disapproving sniff and then folded his arms and fixed me with his customary doom and gloom glare. He was hands down the _last_ person I wanted to see...but on the upside he _was_ still a person, and I was desperate.

"Niko?" I asked first, before anything else, because I _needed_ to know.

"Your brother's alive," he replied curtly, and scowled. "Not exactly elated at your passing, as I'm sure you can relate, but alive nonetheless."

I exhaled, relieved. He hadn't drowned, then. Good. The relief was quickly nudged aside by regret and searing guilt, but as there was nothing I could do I tried to shove it down deep. Nik still had Goodfellow. He still had _Promise._ Maybe he would be alright.

As the seconds ticked by, or didn't, who the hell knew how time worked in the Norse version of the Shire, Loki continued to analyze me. I leaned back against the wall, which turned out to be the temperature of ice cream in Jack Frost's freezer. I straightened back up with a shiver and eyed the blanket, but Loki was in the way. "Why are you here, anyway? I'm dead. You win. Doesn't that mean aces and a round of shots for you?"

He frowned, and then moved out of my path to pace toward the ominous window. "You...you are an _idiot."_

My eyebrows rose. "Excuse me?"

"You endure all manner of catastrophes, hop about through time like it's a children's bounce house, infuriate every single god you come across, and then you let yourself get taken out by wooden twig and some rope?"

I blinked, ran a hand over my face. "Jesus, man," I growled. I eyed the blanket again, hollered a mental screw it and stomped over to wrap the thing around my shoulders. "Could you not say it like that-"

"No. I will continue to say it like that, you infuriating blood sack. That is precisely what happened."

"Well you can fucking _stop,"_ I hissed, plopping down onto the pile of straw. "Besides, it's not like I wanted to die."

"A notion that required due consideration _before_ you went ahead and drowned yourself, leaving your brother behind. You only just acquired him back safe, and was that not the entire objective of this damnable mission of yours? Also, in conjunction with your own personal failings, I would remind you that I, Loki, God of Chaos and Mischief, should _not_ be put to task with comforting humans. Your brother was inconsolable."

I winced.

"Don't _do that,"_ he snapped, flinging his hands up in frustration, "This remains your fault. I do not feel sorry for you."

I swallowed hard. I didn't have to wonder what Niko was going through, I knew firsthand. Hadn't I just lived through it? I'd spent the last week trying to forget the image of the Ninth Circle going up in flames. I'd thought he was dead, but now Nik _knew_ I was dead.

"Listen," I said ruefully, peering up at Loki, "I...I know I fucked up, got screwed over, _whatever._ I know I'm stuck here now. We agreed, and I won't fight you on that. But...can you-"

"No."

"Can you just-"

"Shut up."

"Take a message to my brother?" I pleaded, not caring how desperate my voice sounded. "Please. I just...I need him to be okay. I don't give a damn what happens to me."

He sighed and ran a hand down his face. "Damn it," he groaned. He turned and smacked his forehead against the window with a heavy, deliberate thud. "Damn it," he repeated, softer still.

The candle flickered, went out for a moment, and then blazed. Hel stooped before me, a nightmare of a smile painted across her half rotted face. Her wispy red hair tickled my forehead as she leaned closer still. "Mine," she breathed, reaching her skeleton hand out for my chest. Her withered bones cracked as she curled her fingers.

I glared defiantly and didn't flinch back. If this was the end for me, and damn it, I knew it was _,_ I was going out on my own terms.

Her fingers brushed my shirt and the temperature dropped below freezing. I couldn't move. If I'd had lungs they would've shattered before accepting a single breath. She leaned closer...

Loki wedged his way between us. "Wait," he said, and pushed his daughter back gently.

Warmth returned to chase the chills away. Shaking uncontrollably, I managed to tilt my head and shoot a bewildered glance at Loki.

"Hel," the god began thoughtfully. He paused and took a deep breath. "I have a proposition for you."

 **Please Review!**


	19. A New Beginning

**Hello everyone! I can't believe I'm about to say it, but this is the final chapter. I'd like to send a big thank you to all who have read and reviewed. Your feedback has really kept me motivated over the last several months. Hopefully I've helped you fill the void until the next book comes out!**

 **Thanks again, and enjoy. :)**

 **...**

 **Cal**

I was dead.

I'd drowned. Fucking _drowned._ I'd killed Lazarus, saved the world, and somehow _still_ managed to get myself annihilated. It was the worst goddamn joke I'd ever heard. I hated it; hated how I'd died, despised leaving my brother, but...dead was dead. It couldn't possibly get worse than the shitty life I'd already suffered, right?

Wrong.

Oh, so naively, fucking wrong. Instead of rolling the credits on my sad little existence, some jerk had maliciously set the entire theater on fire and boarded up the exits. Where exactly was all that 'he's moved on to a better place' crap priests were always spouting? Those liars.

I dropped my head into my hands and shivered as Loki and Hel squabbled in hushed, animated whispers on the other side of the cabin. Whatever she'd done when she'd touched me...shit, it was bad news. The worst news, gave the whole fate worse than death thing a brand new spin. I hunched my shoulders underneath the blanket in an attempt to ward off the chill that clung to my consciousness like syrupy glue. Eavesdropping was mostly a waste of time. All of Hel's words strung together in a language I couldn't comprehend, but I got the gist. She _loathed_ me. When you earned a spot on the goddess of death's naughty list, you didn't just wind up with coal in your stocking. I knew that. Couldn't bring myself to care. My hope was long gone, anyway. It'd died in the water, clinging to Nik.

Hel returned on soundless feet after an indeterminable passage of time. She towered over me, hands clasped behind her back.

I tugged strands of straw from the heap beside me. "Back already?" I sneered, subconsciously leaning away when her charcoal colored robe brushed against my knuckles. A fly crawled across her cheek and burrowed into her empty eye socket with a faint buzz. I leaned back farther still and plucked faster at the straw.

She turned so that her rotten flesh blurred into the shadows. "My father would have me condone your egregious violations," she spoke evenly, her good eye boring a mental hole through my forehead, "He fights for you and wishes me to turn a blind eye. What would you say to this?"

I glanced back at Loki, who watched me expectantly. He mouthed something and made a small movement with his hand, but I couldn't make heads or tails of either. I gave him my best 'what the hell' expression and was rewarded with a scowl and another more forceful gesture that I _still_ couldn't understand. The fuck was this, afterlife charades? I know, an airplane. No? Sharks in the water? Did Timmy fall down the goddamn well again?

"Caliban?" Hel prodded steely.

"Me? Yes?" I shot back, swiveling my attention back toward the goddess. I huffed, shrugged. "Listen, gorgeous. I'm an asshole. Your old man's senile if he expects me to turn over a new leaf and become some sort of golden boy. That aside, I honestly didn't mean to screw up the delicate ecosystem you've got running down here. Swear. Lovely place, by the way; real cozy in a Tim Burton vacationing in Mordor kinda guise."

She exhaled and bit her lip with rotten teeth.

"Understand what I mean?" Loki quipped to his daughter with an amused eye roll.

Hel had her hand on my cheek before I could flinch. I shuddered, frozen in place as solidly as if I'd been encased in ice as she traced her skeletal fingers across my skin. My eyes filmed over, leaving me blind and alone and wishing just once in my goddamn life, death, _whatever,_ that I could catch a single goddamn break.

"Perhaps..." she breathed.

The rest of her words were swallowed up by a reverberating chorus of white noise, and then...

Nothing.

I dreamed.

Of tumultuous ocean waves crashing crimson with blood onto the shore, and a twisted ash tree with branches peppered with ravens.

One by one the ravens dissolved into a fuzzy semidarkness. A car horn honked distantly, then blared again. I took a breath and floated amidst the comforting familiarity of morning traffic sounds drifting from the street below. A gust of warm wind blew across my face, and I turned my head away to burrow deeper against the blanket. Someone must've left the window open.

Wait...

I opened my eyes.

A still ceiling fan came into focus first, followed by a bookcase and a meticulously clean dresser. The curtains were closed, but swung lightly in the breeze that swept through the screen.

I was in Niko's room.

I uncrossed stiff arms from atop my chest and eased myself into a sitting position. In the first rays of sunlight I spotted that the runes were completely gone from my left arm. Blood gone, gouges gone. My right arm was freshly wrapped in clean white gauze. The phantom twinges of pain that had plagued me for the last week were absent, and when I flexed my fingers and tugged off my Auphe glove I was baffled to see pale, unmarred skin where before there had been only muscle and bone.

Hushed whispers drew my attention back to the apartment. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and crept to the door. I pulled the handle back so that the door was slightly ajar and listened. Promise, Goodfellow. Their scattered words were faint, voices morose.

Everything from the previous night was horribly muddled. I leaned heavily against the doorframe and tried to push through the mental block and recall what had happened in the last couple hours.

I'd...drowned.

Hadn't I?

My heartrate sped up. I peered down at myself and saw that I was wearing different clothes, a plain black t-shirt and faded jeans. I ran shaking fingers through my dry hair as more details came rushing back.

Oh god. I'd _drowned._

My stomach flip-flopped apprehensively. Was I really back topside, or was this some sick hallucination? A brief squint at the clock revealed that it was just after nine. That meant I'd been dead for...what? Seven hours. At _least._ I placed a clammy palm flat against the door and hesitated, only a few frantic heartbeats away from racing into the living room and demanding answers. But...no. If the others had entertained the slightest suspicion that I might've woken up, if they'd had any more of a grasp on the weird ass turn of events than I did, they would never have left me alone. Nik certainly wouldn't have. Every single time I'd been seriously injured, and damn I could remember a slew of unfortunate occurrences, I'd woken to find him glued to my bedside like the country's most badass mother hen. His absence now screamed that he hadn't expected me to come back.

Where was he? If not out with the others, then _where...?_

On a hunch, I gated into my own bedroom. I stepped silently from the precise order of Niko's room to my customary disarray and released a sigh of relief as I let the tear close.

There, stretched across a bed so covered with clothes and the occasional snack wrapper that I could barely spot the faded blue hue of the bedspread, was Niko. He had his face buried into my pillow and his shoulders rose and fell rhythmically as he breathed. I stretched out a hand hesitantly, paused, and lowered it back to my side in a fist. What if this was a trick, some last vindictive jab concocted by Hel and Loki?

My focus snagged on the picture I'd taped on his headboard years ago, and the message beneath it.

 _Cal's alive. Now get off your ass and fix him breakfast._

The barest hint of a smirk crossed my face, undercut with a darker shadow. I _was_ still alive. It had been true then and was doubly true now, and screw anyone who wanted it different. This wasn't a trick, and I wasn't going anywhere.

"Nik?"

My voice was scratchy and faint, but it was recognizably _mine,_ and Niko tensed instantly.

I scooped a pile of haphazardly folded shirts onto the floor to make room and climbed up onto the squeaky mattress to sit beside him.

Slowly, as though afraid to dispel the illusion, he rotated his head so that he could peer upwards. His eyes were bloodshot and shadowed with dark circles.

"Hey, Cyrano."

Niko snaked his right arm from underneath the pillow and latched onto my wrist so tightly I nearly wound up with a new fracture. I didn't mind. The bone grinding pain meant this was _real,_ and that was more than okay with me.

"Cal?" he inquired in a strangled tone, continuing to fix me with a stare of inexplicable disbelief.

"Yeah."

 _"...How?"_

I released my breath with a whoosh. "Hell if I know," I admitted truthfully.

He pushed himself up on one elbow and I tugged him the rest of the way up. By this point he'd recovered enough to relinquish his death grip on my previously ruined arm. He tore at the gauze until it unraveled.

My skin was healed, one-hundred percent pre-Kyntalash. Christ, I even had my tattoo back, same as always. _Brothers in Arms._ Niko ran his fingers over the words, then moved back down to my wrist to take my pulse. I let him. He exhaled and slumped forward, satisfied.

Then he popped me in the jaw.

"Ow. Jeez," I protested without much ire. The punch hadn't been that hard, barely a tap, and I'd have wanted to take a swing at me too after all the mental trauma I'd dragged him though. He was entitled to a few freebees. I raised a hand to my lip and wiped away a streak of blood.

"You...you're really..." he moaned under his breath, fingernails digging into my biceps. He gave me a furious shake and then yanked me forward into the most rib creaking hug I'd ever experienced. "Damn you, you reckless moron," he choked. I sagged against him and breathed. I was alive, he was alive, and neither of us were facing an impending doom-and-gloom disaster. For us, that was a major triumph. Bust out the pricy champagne.

"I'm okay, I swear," I said, voice muffled. I paused. "Though I'll likely skip the whole swimming scene for awhile-"

"Shut up," Niko snapped. He clung exponentially tighter until the whole breathing gig was actually kinda difficult, then let go.

He rubbed a hand across his eyes and simultaneously reached the other into his pocket. "Here," he said gruffly, dropping my ring into my lap. His eyes glinted. "Fair warning, little brother: If you so much as _consider_ mailing this to me ever again, you will acquire consequences far more grievous than a split lip. Understand?"

"I didn't exactly _mail_ it..." I started to explain, but wisely quit when his expression soured further. I slid the ring back onto my finger. "Layoff the snail mail, got it."

A large bird fluttered past the open window, casting a shadow across the bed. I looked up sharply, but was unable to get a good look before it zipped out of sight.

Niko already had a knife in his hand. I hadn't even seen him move.

"Probably a pigeon," I dismissed lightly, knowing full well what he was thinking, the same as me. I stood and locked the window closed all the same. Honestly, if I ever saw a raven again, talking or no, I was going to blast it from the sky. First mirrors, now ravens...I was a collector of ridiculous phobias. Lucky me.

He slipped the blade back under my pillow and folded his hands in his lap. "Should I get Robin?"

I impulsively paced to the door and back. "Nah, just...not yet," I muttered uneasily, peeking once more out the window. So far, our voices had been quiet enough not to draw the attention of the other two. That was okay by me. What exactly was I supposed to tell them? I'd been trying to make heads or tails of things since I woke up, with zero success. Why was I back at all?

"Cal," Niko spoke carefully, cutting through the jumbled thoughts in my head. He reached out and tugged at my arm. "Come here."

I sighed and obeyed, scooting as close as possible in the mess. He frowned and lightly smacked my knee. "Talk."

I ran a hand through my messy hair, thinking furiously. Another minute passed before I groaned and looked at him. "This is all a bit freaky."

His lips twisted. "An understatement, but yes. Freaky," he agreed, and paused. "I'm not complaining." He nonchalantly knocked a finger against my arm.

I flicked him back. "Checking to make sure I'm still real?"

He tightened his jaw.

"Ah, shit. Don't answer that," I continued quickly, cursing my choice of words, "Sorry. I'm sorry. Hell, Nik... _I'm_ still having doubts that I'm real. Poke me all you goddamn want, okay?"

He raised an eyebrow.

I dropped my head into my hands. "Crap. That wasn't reassuring either, was it?"

"No," he replied, and nudged me before giving me a small smile, "It certainly was not. But it was truthful and blunt and very much a _you_ thing to say."

"Yep, that's me, Mr. Considerate," I snorted.

"More like a complete ass," Nik shot back teasingly.

"Shut up," I said, and laughed. I paused a moment and sighed. My smile faded. "Look...I don't want to jinx whatever miracles I've got going for me today, but I _was_ dead," I said, pausing only briefly when he flinched to knock my shoulder hard against his, "Dead people don't just wake up, Cyrano. I remember some things...I was in Helheim. The decaying chick was there, pissed off as usual, and Loki turned up..." I cut off abruptly. My eyes snapped to the door.

Niko glanced tensely at me.

"You heard it too?" I asked.

A shout from the living room confirmed our misgivings.

Niko swiped his sword from the dresser and was on his feet instantly, already moving toward the noise. Right before he crossed the threshold he halted as though he'd smacked an invisible barrier, then hesitated and spun back to me. I realized with a pang that he'd half expected me to vanish, that a part of him really did fear that I was nothing but his own personal delusion.

"Wait here," he ordered gruffly, and pushed me back into the center of the room.

"Like hell I'm going to-"

"Cal. Gods have been trying to kill you," he ground out with exhausted patience, "You were dead all goddamn night. Do you have any _idea_ what that..."

He faltered, but I knew what he meant to say. God, I knew too well. I watched as his fear of letting me out of his sight battled with a slightly lesser but still prominent worry for the others.

"Just...wait here. _Please,"_ he implored unhappily, and darted from the room.

I swore and tapped my fingers agitatedly against my leg. Normally I would have respected the whole 'please' thing, but today...

I strode after him.

As soon as I stepped from the hallway I realized what the trouble was. Surprise, surprise, it was Loki. It was _always_ Loki. Goodfellow, Promise, and Garm had him cornered, and the god's back was sandwiched uncomfortably between Niko's rack of sparring swords and the window.

 _"You,"_ Niko spoke bitterly.

"You remain a tremendous fool to have come here," Promise said coldly, echoing my brother's unspoken sentiments. She turned minutely toward him, but was distracted when her gaze fell squarely on me. The vampire barely even hesitated before her violet eyes snapped back to Niko and brightened. She looked practically _giddy._ That was a brand new look on her and I liked it, maybe even more than I liked watching her slice up the occasional baddie.

Robin remained the last to notice the change in our situation. He pressed his blade against the base of Loki's throat and loomed forward dangerously. "Why do you deserve to live, snake?"

Promise stretched out a petite hand and delicately turned the puck's cheek toward where I stood.

He saw me, _finally_ noticed I was there, and his jaw dropped along with his sword. I watched as Loki's presence fell to an insignificant blip on Goodfellow's radar as his expression ping-ponged from delighted to mistrustful to everything in between. He nearly smiled, but shoved the expression back down at the last moment. From his menacing air of suspicion, my friend wasn't going to be as quick as Niko to accept that I was back. If anything, he expected me to shed my skin and emerge as some slithering mutation straight out of a low budget sci-fi flick. He still had a secure grip on his sword, so I erred on the side of caution and raised both hands in the air.

Sure, _I_ might've known that I wasn't resurrected straight out of the gory last fifteen minutes of _Pet_ _Cemetery_ , but Goodfellow's frequent glances at the exit had me thinking he might torch me with a flamethrower and rescue Niko fireman style from the apartment.

"Ah. Caliban. Tardy as expected," Loki drawled crossly, recapturing my attention. "Perhaps you can shed light on exactly _why_ your friends attempt to run me through with various steel blades every single solitary time I make an entrance."

Nik stepped between us and frowned at the god. "My biggest regret stands that each time is only an attempt, with no follow through. Next time, perhaps," he told Loki, and then turned to me and swatted my arms down. "Cease the dramatics. Additionally, what part of 'wait here' did you find incomprehensible?" he chastised, a pleased glint shining in his eyes. He was happy, much happier than I remembered seeing him in ages. He could still see me, the others could all see me, and it was becoming less and less likely that this entire scenario was a depression induced dream.

"Whoops, is _that_ what you said?" I said, feigning innocence, "My bad. Sorry. I can't help it if you mumble like an overgrown toddler."

I received a well earned smack to the back of the head just as Garm leapt at me. Nik was intelligent and lucky enough to _move_ , so I alone was pounced by over three-hundred pounds of ecstatic, tail-wagging Wolf. His fur enveloped me like a cocoon and stunk like he'd been rolling around in rotten fish. I gagged. Niko managed to obtain a grip on the back of my shirt just as I heard the television crash to the floor beside us with a heavy shatter of glass. Eh, whatever. Robin could get us another...two. Yeah, I wanted two.

My brother helpfully dragged me back far enough for me to hack in a breath and throw my hands out. "No. _Down._ You get down. Don't make me get out the..." I broke off, floundering, and came up with nothing. Rolled up newspaper? Water sprayer? Crap, how did you discipline a creature that was practically as large as your living room? What would a normal person do in this situation?

Run away, probably. Screaming.

Garm licked a rough tongue across my face, nearly knocking me backward through the window, and then huffed contentedly and laid down at my feet. He fixed me with sad, pleading eyes until I sighed and scratched behind his ears.

"Caliban?" Goodfellow grated with deadly calm. I took one look at him and didn't buy the act. He could shoot for sounding nonchalant and unflappable all he wanted, but I knew desperation when I heard it. The puck looked worse than I'd ever seen him. Hair a wind-swept mess, clothes torn and streaked with mud and crusted blood. He reeked nearly as badly of fish and ocean sludge as Garm had.

I swiped a trail of drool off my cheek. "Yeah, Loman. It's me," I assured him, and reached back to wipe the slimy mess on my brother's front. Niko smacked my arm and muttered for me to knock it off, but there was no heat behind his words. He was still reeling at having me back, and I could've done just about anything at that point and gotten away with it. Didn't mean I was going to test it out. I wasn't that big of an ass.

Robin contemplated our exchange briefly before swiveling his eyes to Loki, who had untangled himself from the curtains during the scuffle and was currently making a show of dusting himself off. The god adjusted his rumpled blazer and shot him a haughty glare. "What? I pulled a few strings."

"Strings?" Goodfellow echoed woodenly, "Cal is dead."

" _W_ _as_ dead. Now he is not," the god corrected smugly. He tilted his head to the side. His lip curled. "Honestly, puck. It is disdainful how very little confidence you retain of me. Be assured that while I may periodically humor your abhorrent and _empty_ threats, the most recent of which, if I recall correctly, involved forcing me to live in your salad crisper for a decade-"

Robin sniffed. "My threats are never empty."

"Nevertheless," Loki deadpanned, picking dirt from underneath his trim nails, "Know that whatever decimal your threats, and however much hot air you decide to blow through your prissy little mouth, I will continue to do exactly as I please, exactly when I please to do it."

The temperature in the room plummeted. Robin's expression morphed from furious to homicidal to serene in less than three seconds. I winced and took a giant step back from the two men, subconsciously avoiding the shattered glass as I moved. If these two got into a pissing match, I for one didn't want to be within a hundred miles of that misfortune. I wasn't sure who would come out on top, but the apartment was most definitely ground zero, a goner.

It was that thought that had me between them in four strides, a hand on each arm as I shoved them back. "Not here," I growled, "If you two bigshots wanna start this battle for supremacy shit you can fucking go somewhere _else,_ somewhere desolate like the middle of the Sahara or, better yet, Jersey. I'm fed up with moving around, and Nik and I just coughed up the cash for the monthly rent a few days ago."

Robin redirected his glare at me. "You. Who are you really?"

"You know full well who I am."

"No, I certainly do not. Cal is _dead._ You had best remove your hand from my person immediately lest you wish to awaken miles away lacking it and all other appendages. And I do mean _all."_

Close. He was so close to cracking. All I needed was one last push...

I grinned and tugged at his ragged sleeve. "You really want to play, puck?" I goaded him, and tilted my head toward the kitchen, "Give me a minute. I'll break out the forks."

He lunged.

I grunted, winced. "Ribs," I choked out after several seconds. He didn't ease up, but I couldn't blame him. I knew my death, no matter how brief, had done plenty of damage to his already dented psyche. His actions and appearance attested to that. I coughed as his arms tightened further. Still...

"Uh...Robin?" I grimaced, patting him gently on the back, "I'm glad to see you, and I swear to you I'm alright, but if you keep squeezing like that I'm gonna spew my intestines down your front like a gory tube of toothpaste."

He backed off reluctantly, then held me at an arm's length. "Impossible," he murmured, shaking his head as his eyes took on a faraway sheen, "No, not altogether impossible. I suppose the same would have happened with Balder centuries ago had circumstances been altered, and Loki was damnably responsible for that outcome as well. _Gamisou._ However, now there is Odin to contend with. That sneaky bastard throws tantrums when events deviate even a smidgeon from his grandiose vision, and after _this..._ there will doubtlessly be future repercussions-"

"Robin," Nik interrupted tactfully.

The puck blinked, pulled himself back to the present, and clapped a hand on each of our shoulders. "You two. You damnably loyal idiots..." he said exasperatedly, "You will be the death of me, I swear it."

"Us? Hardly," I quipped, and ruffled his already knotted hair, "You're much more likely to meet your end tripping over a cat."

He knocked my hand away and smiled, still too pleased to be upset at me.

Loki remained in the room. I'd nearly forgotten, but as Promise had watched him throughout the commotion there had been no cause for concern. I turned to face the god now, studied him as he nonchalantly bent to examine Niko's swords. Before the maniac ran off again to wreak chaos, bear more weirdo children, or carry out whatever other strange plans he had for a normal Saturday, I needed one more answer. One that only _he_ could give.

"Why?" I asked suspiciously.

The god ran his fingers across the top weapon. He sighed. "You humans unfailingly ask the most redundant questions."

"Hel wanted me dead," I pushed on, unwilling to be dismissed so easily, "You and I had...you know..."

"An agreement?" Niko spoke up with chilling levity.

I coughed, then glanced sideways at him before redirecting my gaze to the floor. This counted as one of the only times I wished I could hide things from my brother. I was sure he'd formulated guesses as to what I'd done to finagle Loki's cooperation, though I highly doubted he knew about the whole 'stay in Helheim forever' part of the deal. Screwed, that's what I was. Give it a day, two at the most, but once his initial relief of my return faded and he wrenched the details out of me, I _knew_ we were going to have a lengthy discussion about the irresponsibility of making spur of the moment deals with gods.

"An agreement," I admitted. I shot my brother an apologetic grimace, to which he frowned and furrowed his eyebrows. Yep. Screwed. I focused back on Loki. "So...why? Why convince Hel to bring me back?"

"Why?" he said, and snorted, "I wanted to. There exists no other reason, which you would already understand if you had more grasp of Norse mythology than a common squirrel. Besides, I find you...tolerably interesting, for an obnoxious Auphe hybrid," he admitted flippantly.

He sprawled down on the couch, ankles crossed. "Enough of that boring subject. Less about you, more about me," he said, and peered up at me deviously, _"_ _I_ have decided to abandon the glittery vomit pit that is Vegas. I'm relocating."

A feeling of unease curled in my gut. I squeezed my eyes shut. "No," I denied simply.

"No? With Lazarus buried in the ocean, the Vigil dead, and Tyr and Odin momentarily occupied with their other godly duties-"

"Absolutely _not,"_ I enunciated, flinging my arms out for emphasis.

"I purchased a rather charming flat here in New York, several blocks down from this very spot. The street name currently escapes me, but..." he trailed off and smiled wickedly, "Rest assured, you impertinent miscreant, I will get you the address."

Loki stood, face dripping with smug satisfaction at my obvious distress. "Oh, and henceforth keep your Tuesday nights free from distractions. You are all invited to dine with Hel and me promptly at six, and by invited I mean you are _expected_ unless you wish to endure horrific consequences. I make a mean enchilada casserole. Bring a side dish, but no shellfish, please. I'm allergic."

Words failed me. The god vanished with a taunting wave before I could spit out any sort of rebuttal.

Robin loosed a long, dramatic sigh. "Well, there goes the city," he muttered bleakly.

Promise clasped her hands in front of her. "Is he serious?"

"Him? That pretentious bastard is _always_ serious, my dear," he said, shaking his head. "The Destroyer of Worlds. _Skata._ I will need to update my security system, warn Ishiah."

I still hadn't moved. Niko slid up behind me and slung an arm around my shoulder.

"Nik," I told him solemnly, "Pack everything you own. We're moving. Tomorrow. Out of state."

He chuckled, amused. "We have survived far worse, little brother."

I snorted. That much was true. We had survived the Auphe, gods, and the countless monsters in between, and we would continue to survive whatever came our way this year and the next. Loki's devious trickery wasn't anything I couldn't handle. And Odin? As far as I was concerned, the old man knew where to find me if he wanted to pick a fight. I wouldn't lose any sleep worrying. Lazarus was dead, and so what if I had done things my way to accomplish that end? You're welcome, Gandalf. Stay in your world and I'll stay in mine.

Garm's tail thumped the floor, sending several DVD's skidding across the room. That brought me back to my most pressing issue.

"So...Nik," I began, and shrugged helplessly at the ridiculousness of my next suggestion, "Any thoughts on adopting a pet?"

The Wolf sat up abruptly, tongue lolling excitedly. Even _sitting_ he had to stoop not to knock holes in the ceiling.

Nik groaned. "You are kidding, naturally. You had best be kidding," he said, took a careful look at my expression. He ran a hand down his face. "You are not. Wonderful. Could you have grown attached to something smaller, perhaps? A goldfish? A Shetland pony?"

"Aw, cheer up, Cyrano. He'll be easy to care for. Besides, we already know he's capable of tracking down his own meals."

"Yes. A giant Wolf, the previous guardian of Helheim, no less, tracking prey through the city. _T_ _hat's_ the most reassuring thing I've heard all week."

"It should be."

"It most definitely is _not."_

I elbowed him, then lowered my voice. "You know, Robin's place is bigger. Maybe Garm can bunk with him and the cats."

Goodfellow's hand slammed across my mouth, silencing me. I smiled widely and ducked my head away from his hold as the puck launched into a vicious rejection of the idea, accompanied by detailed threats to my physical and mental wellbeing if I ever followed through with such a scheme. Niko sank down on the couch beside Promise and propped his feet up on Garm's back as he smirked up at the both of us.

It was going to be a great year.

 **The End**

 **-Thank you again for reading, and please review!-**


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